. 


w 


LIBRARY 

UNI       HSITYOF 

C»,i:ORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


LADY  LEE 

AND   OTHER  ANIMAL  STORIES 


LADY   LEE 

and    Other  £• 

.St-nr 


' "  I  presume  we  are  introduced  b\  a  mutual  friend. 
DRAWING  BY  MAX  F.   KU.PPKR. 


LADY  LEE 

anJ    Other  Animal 
5tories 


HERMON  LEE  ENSIGN 


Illustrated  \ 
arra-vure  from  Original 
Drawings   by  MAX' 
F  •  KLEPPER  -J  CARTER^ 
BEARD -JJW  HAMBIDGE 
and  W1LLH-DRAKE* 


CHICAGO 
?£7u  r 
19  01 


Copyright 
By  A.  C.  MCCLURG  &  Co., 

A.  D.    1901. 


All  rights  reserved. 


THE   DIAL  PRESS 
CHICAGO 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Introductory  Memoir vii. 


LADY  LEE 25 

GENTLEMAN  JACK 49 

UNION  SQUARE  JIM 67 

MY  FRIEND  THE  ELEPHANT 95 

SALLIE  RUSSELL 117 

LITTLE  BYRON  149 

BABY  AND  THE  KITTEN 171 

MAXEY 191 

DANIEL  PRATT 219 

A  KINDERGARTEN  EXPERIMENT     ....  239 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

4  "  I   presume   we   are   introduced    by   a   mutual 

friend  " Frontispiece 

DRAWING  BY  MAX  F.  KLEPPER. 


Portrait  of  Hermon  Lee  Ensign 


'  I  quickly  drew  alongside,  and  seized  the  bridle 

of  the  nearest  horse  ' 43 

DRAWING  BY  MAX  F.  KLEPPER. 

4  The  animal  that  would  not  see  his  friend  abused 

seized  the  broom  in  his  mouth'      .      .      .      .      53 
DRAWING  BY  J.  CARTER  BEARD. 

4  Jack  and  the  rabid  giant  were  settling  the  ques- 
tion of  existence' 58 

DRAWING  BY  J.  CARTER  BEARD. 

1 "  Do  you  think  I  shall  make  a  '  hit '  to-night, 

Jim?'" 86 

DRAWING  BY  J.  CARTER  BEARD. 

4  Jumbo' 97 

FROM  ORIGINAL  PHOTOGRAPH  BY  DIXON,  LONDON. 


Vlll.  LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

'  The  next  instant  the  lion  was  rolling  upon  the 

ground  ' 106 

DRAWING  BY  WILL  H.  DRAKE. 

'  There  she  stood  through  that  hot  day,  shielding 

him  by  her  shadow' 125 

DRAWING  BY  MAX  F.  KLEPPER. 

'  Occasionally  a  lady  would  stop  to  admire  the 

little  creatures  ' 150 

DRAWING  BY  JAY  HAMBIDGE. 

'  He  lay  there  in  hopeless  agony  and  despair'      .    165 
DRAWING  BY  JAY  HAMBIDGE. 

'  He   blinked   his   little   black  eyes,    .    .    .    while 

gazing  at  the  astonished  pair  before  him  '      .176 
DRAWING  BY  J.  CARTER  BEARD. 

'  The    little   animal    had    lodged,   and    now    lay 

motionless' 196 

DRAWING  BY  MAX  F.  KLEPPER. 

'He  loosened  the  straps  that  held  the  pack'  .      .   200 
DRAWING  BY  MAX  F.  KLEPPER. 

'He  was  watching  me  with  an  earnest  yet  dis- 
trustful look' 221 

DRAWING  BY  MAX  F.  KLEPPER. 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS  ix. 

'  I  saw  something  emerging  from  the  smoke  that 

was  pouring  in  clouds  from  the  doorway  '      .   233 
DRAWING  BY  MAX  F.  KLEPPER. 

'  The  minute   I  took   them   from   their   box    of 

cotton  they  began  to  peep  pitifully'       .      .247 
DRAWING  BY  J.  CARTER  BEARD. 

INITIALS  by  MAX  F.  KLEPPER,  J.  CARTER  BEARD,  WILLH. 
DRAKE,  and  JAY  HAMBIDGE. 


Photogravures  by  A.  W.  Elson  &  Co.,  Boston. 


^ff~^^^-^.^^^^t) 


HERMON    LEE    ENSIGN. 
Si  fi^emirir. 

THE  author  of  the  little  stories  of  domestic  animals, 
presented  in  this  volume,  was  one  of  those  many- 
sided  characters  which  our  growingly  complex  civ- 
ilization tends  more  and  more  to  produce.  Without 
advantage  of  birth  or  fortune,  living  the  life  of  a  quiet 
American  citizen  and  dying  before  he  had  reached  the 
age  of  fifty,  he  had  yet  rounded  a  circle  of  experience 
and  achievement  that  makes  his  life  a  notable  one  and 
its  story  one  of  interest  and  profit.  To  the  world,  to 
the  business  community,  and  to  his  general  friends,  he 
was  known  as  a  genial  and  companionable  man,  suc- 
cessful in  his  affairs,  light-hearted,  and  satisfied  with 
life.  His  more  intimate  friends  knew  that  he  had  other 
interests  and  feelings,  which  represented  the  deeper 
and  more  vital  portions  of  his  nature.  He  had  an 
eager  and  imaginative  temperament,  an  instinctive  love 
of  what  is  good  and  true,  and  a  hatred  of  what  is  bad 
and  wrong.  From  childhood  he  was  a  lover  of  domes- 
tic animals ;  and  this  love  and  friendship  for  them, 
with  a  detestation  of  all  that  is  ungentle  and  unkind 
in  the  treatment  of  them  by  their  natural  protector 


Xll.  INTRODUCTORY    MEMOIR 

man,  became  more  than  a  sentiment  —  it  became  a 
passion  with  him,  growing  with  his  years  and  experi- 
ences, and  at  last  filling  and  dominating  his  life.  By 
nature  one  of  the  most  kindly  and  gentle  of  men,  he 
could  not  understand  harshness  or  cruelty  in  others, 
particularly  toward  those  defenceless  creatures  com- 
mitted to  our  care.  To  him  they  were  not  merely 
our  inferiors  or  our  slaves,  —  they  were  our  compan- 
ions, our  friends,  devoting  themselves  to  us,  dependent 
upon  us  for  their  lives  and  happiness,  having  feelings 
and  interests  not  unlike  our  own,  suffering  from  injus- 
tice, degraded  by  ill-treatment  and  brutality,  respond- 
ing to  kindness  and  sympathy  as  human  beings  do. 
The  ethics  of  our  relations  to  the  lower  animals  have 
seldom  had  more  forcible  and  practical  exposition  than 
from  this  humane  and  warm-hearted  man.  He  talked 
and  wrote  much  on  the  subject,  and  simple  deeds  of 
kindliness  and  mercy  were  part  of  his  daily  life.  I 
have  seen  him,  as  we  picked  our  course  through  a 
mass  of  teams  and  vehicles  in  a  crowded  city,  his 
attention  attracted  by  a  restive  dray-horse  —  whose 
furious  glance  and  vicious  action  no  less  than  the 
restraining  muzzle  evinced  the  tendencies  of  an  evil 
nature,  —  making  his  way,  not  without  difficulty,  to 
the  horse's  head,  speaking  to  him  in  kind  tones,  and, 
avoiding  the  lunges  of  the  suspicious  and  dangerous 


INTRODUCTORY    MEMOIR  Xlll. 

brute,  stroking  his  neck,  talking  to  him  in  a  sympa- 
thetic way,  and  presently  soothing  him  to  a  gentler 
and  more  quiet  mood.  'That  horse  has  had  a  brutal 
master,'  said  my  friend.  4  Nothing  but  vicious  treat- 
ment makes  a  horse  like  that ;  and  now  that  his  na- 
ture has  been  spoiled  by  the  fault  of  others,  he  is 
treated  all  the  worse  on  that  account.  That  is  man's 
inhumanity  to  man's  dependents  —  a  worse  inhu- 
manity, in  some  respects,  than  that  to  man,  as  being 
more  cowardly,  and  the  victims  more  helpless  and  de- 
fenceless.' It  was  this  inhumanity  to  man's  defence- 
less dumb  companions  that  lay  like  a  burden  on  his 
sympathies  and  occupied  much  of  his  thought  in  his 
later  years.  It  is  the  protest  against  this  inhumanity, 
and  the  desire  to  win  men  to  a  nobler  view  of  their 
duties  and  obligations,  that  form  the  key-note  of  the 
stories  here  presented.  My  friend  was,  as  I  have  said, 
a  many-sided  man.  In  his  early  life  he  had  resolved 
to  enter  the  ministry,  and  spent  some  time  in  studying 
to  that  end ;  he  was  fond  of  music,  he  had  aspirations 
in  literature,  he  enjoyed  social  life,  he  had  his  fail- 
share  of  success  as  the  world  goes;  but  he  has  said  to 
me,  in  speaking  of  personal  ambitions  and  achieve- 
ments, that  the  one  man  whose  fame  he  most  envied 
was  Mr.  Henry  Bergh  •,  that  if  he  felt  he  could  leave 
behind  him  such  a  record  as  this  good  man  left,  he 


XIV.  INTRODUCTORY    MEMOIR 

should  regard  it  as  the  proudest  monument  he  could 
desire.  Had  he  lived,  he  might,  with  his  means, 
abilities,  and  purposes,  have  accomplished  a  work  not 
incomparable  to  that  of  him  whose  name  will  ever  be 
associated  with  the  cause  of  humane  treatment  of  our 
dumb  companions. 

Perhaps  in  no  other  direction  has  the  advance  of 
civilization  been  shown  more  markedly,  in  our  coun- 
try, than  in  the  laws  and  societies  for  the  protection  of 
animals.  Those  of  us  whose  memories  go  back  a 
score  of  years  will  easily  recall  how  much  more  com- 
mon cases  of  public  brutality  were  then  than  they  are 
now.  It  is  more  than  a  change  —  it  is  a  revolution. 
Not  so  long  ago  one  might  witness,  in  any  large  city, 
the  most  shocking  and  devilish  brutality  to  horses, 
when  to  venture  a  remonstrance  was  to  be  answered 
with  a  curse  or  perhaps  threatened  with  a  blow.  All 
that,  at  least  in  our  older  and  larger  cities,  is  prac- 
tically changed.  Laws  regulate,  more  or  less  effec- 
tively, our  relations  with  the  lower  animals,  as  with 
each  other ;  and  in  most  civilized  communities  a  citi- 
zen witnessing  a  case  of  brutality  to  animals  may 
interfere  as  in  any  other  case  of  public  crime,  and  the 
law  and  authorities  will  support  him  and  bring  the 
offender  to  justice.  Societies  have  been  formed  to 
procure  and  enforce  these  laws,  there  being  now  up- 


INTRODUCTORY    MEMOIR  XV. 

wards  of  two  hundred  such  societies  incorporated  in 
the  United  States,  beginning  with  the  parent  society 
incorporated  in  New  York  in  1866  and  designated  as 
'The  American  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 
to  Animals.'  The  officers  and  agents  of  these  soci- 
eties are  clothed  with  police  powers,  may  arrest  and 
prosecute  offenders  against  the  laws  relating  to  animals 
and  investigate  and  follow  up  complaints  made  to 
them.  They  are  also  a  factor  in  procuring  more 
advanced  and  completer  humane  legislation. 

But  good  and  noble  as  is  the  work  of  these  soci- 
eties, it  is  along  the  lines  of  repression  that  their 
activities  largely  lie ;  and  there  are  other  worthy  fields 
of  effort.  Long  study  and  observation  had  given  Mr. 
Ensign  the  conviction  that  not  a  little  of  the  com- 
moner forms  of  cruelty  to  animals  was  due  to  thought- 
lessness rather  than  depravity ;  that  people  would  treat 
animals  better  if  they  really  knew  better.  Humane 
education  became,  therefore,  his  dominant  idea  and 
purpose ;  as  he  expressed  it,  'not  education  by  the 
arm  of  the  law,  not  by  force,  but  by  the  gentler  yet 
more  powerful  effect  of  persuasion.  Force  may  pre- 
vent brutality  in  public,  but  it  is  unable  to  check  it 
where  it  is  unseen.  It  does  not  prevent  an  offender 
from  wreaking  vengeance  on  an  unfortunate  animal 
for  whose  ill-treatment  he  has  suffered  punishment. 


INTRODUCTORY     MEMOIR 


It  does  not  stop  the  misery  and  suffering  caused  by 
ignorance  and  thoughtlessness.'  The  object  should 
be  c  to  awaken  such  a  feeling  of  humane  kindness 
toward  the  brute  creation  that  people  of  every  class 
will  be  led  to  treat  animals  tenderly,  simply  because 
they  feel  a  natural  inclination  to  do  so.'  To  carry 
his  ideas  into  practical  effect,  Mr.  Ensign  organized 
The  National  Humane  Alliance,  which  was  incorpo- 
rated, in  1896,  under  the  laws  of  New  York.  The 
society  entered  at  once  upon  the  general  work  ot 
humane  education,  in  accordance  with  the  ideas  of  its 
founder,  chiefly  through  the  publication  and  dissemi- 
nation of  humane  literature.  He  gave  the  society,  as 
its  President,  much  of  his  time  and  energy,  and  con- 
tributed annually  several  thousands  of  dollars  for  its 
support.  Yet  so  modestly  was  this  work  given  and 
this  service  rendered,  that  his  personality  was  never 
prominent,  and  but  few  even  of  his  acquaintances 
knew  anything  of  the  noble  benevolence  in  which  he 
was  engaged  and  which  lay  so  near  his  heart.  He 
sealed  his  devotion  by  the  final  act  of  bequeathing  to 
the  society  the  bulk  of  his  not  inconsiderable  fortune. 
The  essential  meanings  and  accomplishments  of 
Mr.  Ensign's  life  may  be  gathered  from  the  foregoing, 
and  from  the  stories  in  the  present  collection,  which 
represent  what  is  most  significant  and  distinctive  in 


INTRODUCTORY     MEMOIR  XVII. 

his  literary  work.  A  brief  outline  of  the  life  thus 
comprehended  may  fitly  be  included  here.  He  was 
born  in  Carbondale,  Pennsylvania,  June  30,  1849. 
At  an  early  age  he  removed,  with  his  parents,  to 
Sheffield,  Bureau  County,  Illinois.  When  about 
fifteen  years  of  age,  through  his  acquaintance  with  a 
telegraph  operator  in  whose  office  the  bright  lad  was  a 
welcome  visitor,  he  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  art 
of  telegraphing,  and  soon  became  an  expert  and  effi- 
cient operator.  Those  were  the  days  of  <  sound  ' 
telegraphy;  and  Mr.  Ensign  attained  such  skill  that  in 
a  short  time  he  was  sent  to  Davenport,  Iowa,  where 
he  was  the  receiver  of  press  reports  for  the  Western 
Union  Telegraph  Company.  Soon  he  was  transferred 
to  Colorado,  and  had  a  varied  experience  in  Denver 
and  other  places,  where  he  acquired  a  considerable 
knowledge  of  frontier  life,  and  of  the  mountains,  some 
of  which  appears  in  the  present  volume. 

Mr.  Ensign  had  been  reared  under  the  influence 
of  religion,  being  a  member  of  the  Congregational 
Church  ;  and  when  about  twenty  years  of  age  he  left 
Denver  and  entered  Phillips  Academy  in  Massachu- 
setts, intending  to  study  for  the  ministry.  His  health 
or  finances  failing,  he  soon  left  school  and  went  to 
Chicago,  where  he  accepted  a  business  position  with 
the  American  Bridge  Company.  During  the  great 


XV'iii.  INTRODUCTORY    MEMOIR 

fire  of  1871,  he  was  able  to  render  an  important 
service  to  his  employers  by  rescuing  from  their  offices 
some  valuable  books  and  taking  them  to  a  place  of 
safety. 

A  few  years  after  this,  there  was  founded  in 
Chicago  a  weekly  periodical  which,  though  its  course 
ran  but  a  few  brief  years,  must  be  remembered  as  one 
of  the  most  meritorious  and  notable  journals  ever 
published  in  that  city.  This  was  l  The  Alliance,'  a 
weekly  journal,  mildly  religious,  broadly  humanitarian, 
and  more  fairly  literary  than  anything  in  Chicago 
except  the  '  Lakeside  Monthly,'  —  established  on  a 
sort  of  ministerial  cooperative  plan  by  a  group  of 
earnest  and  liberal  clergymen,  among  whom  were  the 
Rev.  Robert  Collyer,  the  Rev.  David  Swing,  the  Rev. 
H.  N.  Powers,  the  Rev.  C.  D.  Helmer,  and  the  Rev. 
H.  W.  Thomas ;  all  strong  men  and  forces  for  good 
in  their  day,  and  two  of  them  (Drs.  Collyer  and 
Thomas)  still  in  ours.  Of  this  brilliant  combination 
of  stars,  Mr.  Ensign  became  the  attempted  manager 
or  business  agent ;  but  it  was  too  brilliant  to  last,  and 
presently  it  fell  apart  and  Rrofessor  Swing  and  Mr. 
Ensign  acquired  full  ownership  and  control  of  the 
concern.  About  this  time  (1877)  I  became  the  lit- 
erary editor  of  the  ambitious  little  paper,  and  then 
began  my  acquaintance  and  friendship  with  Mr. 


INTRODUCTORY    MEMOIR  XIX. 

Ensign  which  continued  uninterrupted  for  over  twenty 
years.  Presently  there  came  some  business  disagree- 
ment, when  Mr.  Ensign  and  I  retired  from  '  The 
Alliance,'  which  fell  upon  evil  days,  and  its  feeble 
light  went  out  utterly  a  year  or  two  afterwards. 
Under  Mr.  Ensign's  management  it  was  a  good  and 
promising  paper,  and  should  have  continued  a  civiliz- 
ing influence  in  Chicago,  where  the  people  needed  it 
more  than  they  knew. 

The  prosperity  that  Mr.  Ensign  had  sought  vainly 
in  '  The  Alliance '  seemed  to  come  easily  to  him 
thereafter.  His  experience  in  journalism  he  turned  to 
practical  account  in  adopting  advertising  as  his  future 
business,  following  it  with  marked  success  and  acquir- 
ing a  competence  in  twenty  years.  Fertile  in  fancy 
and  quick  in  expedient,  he  devised  a  new  form  of 
newspaper  advertising,  technically  known  as  'headline 
reading  advertising,'  which  was  a  great  novelty  in  its 
day  and  secured  him  large  contracts  from  extensive 
advertisers.  In  1881  or  1882  Mr.  Ensign  removed 
to  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  and  in  1884  to  New  York  City, 
which  was  his  home  until  his  death,  February  9,  1899. 

The  ingenuity  and  fertility  of  Mr.  Ensign's  mind 
led  him  into  the  region  of  mechanical  invention,  and 
one  of  his  patented  devices  —  stereotyped  plates  with 
interchangeable  base,  for  supplying  reading  matter  to 


XX.  INTRODUCTORY     MEMOIR 

country  papers  —  is  still  in  successful  use.  He  also, 
while  but  a  boy,  obtained  a  patent  on  some  improved 
device  for  hydraulic  elevators.  His  inventive  faculty 
was  not  limited  to  mechanics  :  he  invented  dramatic 
situations  and  wrote  plays,  one  of  which  he  himself 
put  on  the  stage  with  considerable  success  throughout 
the  country.  But  his  buoyant  temperament  and  too 
confiding  nature  scarcely  fitted  him  for  the  duties  of  a 
theatrical  manager. 

Mr.  Ensign  made  frequent  trips  to  Europe,  and  in 
summers  took  long  camping  vacations  in  the  woods  of 
the  Northeast  and  of  Canada.  When  in  New  York 
his  home  was  usually  at  the  Lotos  Club,  where  his 
warm  and  kindly  disposition  made  him  a  general 
favorite.  His  mother  died  in  his  early  life;  and  he 
was  never  married.  He  had  a  great  affection  for 
a  beautiful  horse  —  'Lady  Lee,'  the  heroine  of  the 
story  in  this  volume ;  and  he  drove  her  almost  daily 
for  nearly  fifteen  years.  He  was  an  enthusiastic 
member  of  the  Gentlemen's  Driving  Association  at 
the  old  Fleetwood  Park,  having  won  the  silver  cup 
there,  and  other  prizes  on  other  occasions,  driving  his 
own  horse.  Professional  racing  and  track  gambling 
he  abhorred,  and  though  he  owned  some  fine  horses, 
would  never  allow  them  to  go  upon  the  race-track. 

Like  so  many  busy  men,  Mr.  Ensign  was  looking 


INTRODUCTORY    MEMOIR  XXI. 

forward  to  a  life  of  leisure,  in  which,  freed  from  all 
cares  of  business,  he  would  devote  himself  to  the 
humane  work  and  the  literary  work  which  he  was 
wont  to  regard  as  his  chief  concerns  in  life.  But 
the  end  came  suddenly,  in  the  fulness  of  his  life 
and  strength,  leaving  many  purposes  unfulfilled  and 
much  work  unfinished.  The  habit  of  writing,  formed 
in  his  journalistic  days,  never  left  him,  and  he  had 
numerous  plans  for  literary  tasks  which  he  never  con- 
summated. Among  the  mass  of  papers  left  at  his 
death  were  found,  besides  the  ten  short  stories  here 
presented,  an  unfinished  novel,  several  plays  and  light 
operas,  and  various  fragmentary  things.  But  of  them 
all,  the  best,  as  being  most  characteristic  and  expres- 
sive of  the  purposes  and  interests  of  his  life,  are  the 
stories  or  sketches  presented  in  this  volume,  to  which 
it  is  my  sad  privilege,  as  an  old  friend  and  literary 
associate  of  the  author,  to  prefix  this  brief  memoir 
and  appreciation. 

FRANCIS  FISHER  BROWNE. 

Chicago,  August,  1900. 


LADY  LEE 


LADY   LEE. 


FIRST  met  her  in  a  coun- 
try lane.  She  was  trotting 
toward  me  with  all  the  ease 
and  freedom  of  a  young  and 
healthful  creature,  while  I 
was  trudging  along  with  all 
the  depression  of  a  jaded 
dilettante.  She  stopped  sud- 
denly, and  looked  at  me 
with  lustrous  eyes  whose 
depths  and  gentleness  I  afterwards  learned  to  fathom. 
She  had  no  fear  ;  it  was  only  surprise  and  mild  curi- 
osity. As  for  me  —  well,  it  was  a  case  of  love 
at  first  sight.  I  spoke  to  her,  and  attempted  to 
approach  her.  At  first  she  seemed  disposed  to  repel 
my  advances  ;  but  presently,  with  ears  erect,  nostrils 
dilated,  and  neck  arched,  she  suffered  me  to  come 
to  her  and  stroke  her.  I  recalled  that  Hans  Chris- 
tian Andersen  always  carried  fruits  and  sweetmeats 
in  his  pockets  for  the  little  folks  he  might  meet  in 


26  Lady   Lee 

his  walks ;  and  just  then  I  would  have  given  all 
the  loose  change  I  had  in  my  pocket  for  a  single 
lump  of  sugar.  It  pleased  me,  though,  to  see  how 
well  she  liked  caresses.  Most  horses,  unfortunately, 
have  little  or  no  capacity  for  affection.  A  dog  must 
love,  must  worship  someone  ;  a  horse  possesses  many 
of  the  qualities  of  an  anchorite.  But  the  trim  and 
jaunty  filly  I  was  then  patting  seemed  to  delight  in 
friendship,  in  sympathy,  in  love. 

While  our  very  pleasant  visit  was  in  progress, 
one  of  the  participants  suddenly  seemed  to  remem- 
ber something, —  just  as  a  man  of  business  will  some- 
times start  and  look  at  his  watch.  She  made  a  quick 
movement,  arched  her  neck  gracefully,  swept  her 
long  tail  proudly,  and  with  a  queenly  step  pranced 
from  me  in  the  direction  from  which  she  had  come. 
I  stood  and  watched  her  as  she  disappeared,  increasing 
her  speed  every  instant,  but  never  once  abandoning 
the  perfect  trot  which  seemed  to  be  her  natural 
heritage. 

On  the  following  day  I  found  myself  again  in 
the  same  lane  ;  and,  to  my  surprise  not  less  than 
gratification,  I  again  met  my  acquaintance  of  the  day 


Lady  Lee  27 

before.  This  time,  fortunately,  I  had  some  bon-bons 
in  my  pocket,  the  remnants  of  a  package  I  had  dis- 
tributed among  the  children  on  the  piazza  of  the 
hotel.  I  could  see  at  once  that  the  little  filly  was 
unaccustomed  to  sweets,  and  I  watched  her  face 
while  she  tried  the  first  mouthful.  It  was  a  charming 
study  of  animal  expression.  Her  eyes  seemed  to 
dilate  with  pleasure,  her  nostrils  expanded,  her  breath 
came  quicker,  and  there  was  an  eagerness  in  the  way 
she  turned  toward  me  that  was  more  eloquent  than 
words.  She  knew  the  juices  of  the  sweet  grass  she 
had  so  often  cropped,  and  from  which  her  abundant 
life  came  ;  she  had  received  saccharine  flavors  and 
foretastes  in  the  corn  and  oats  she  had  consumed ; 
but  here  was  sweetness  in  its  most  concentrated  form. 
It  was  a  new  and  pleasing  discovery  in  her  life  ;  and 
she  was  plainly  grateful  to  the  one  who  had  revealed 
it  to  her. 

I  took  my  walks  in  the  same  direction  each  day 
thereafter,  and  always  found  my  beautiful  equine 
friend  awaiting  me.  Sometimes  we  strolled  along  the 
country  roads  together,  and  while  I  chatted  to  her 
freely  of  my  admiration,  I  was  quite  satisfied,  from  her 


28  Lady   Lee 

dilating  nostrils,  changeful  expression,  docile  manner, 
and  occasional  whinny  in  varying  tones,  that  she 
understood  and  reciprocated  my  attachment.  One 
day  I  chanced  to  see  a  rare  flower  growing  in  a  field 
we  were  passing,  and  I  instantly  climbed  the  fence 
to  secure  it.  What  was  my  surprise  to  see  my 
companion  leap  the  fence  as  easily  as  if  it  had  been 
one  foot  in  height  instead  of  five,  and  as  readily 
retake  it  when  I  returned  to  the  highway.  It  was 
this  doubtful  accomplishment,  as  I  afterwards  learned, 
which  gave  her  the  holidays  we  were  enjoying  and 
from  which  she  conscientiously  returned  each  day. 
Every  evening  found  her  safely  back  in  the  field 
from  which  she  had  strayed. 

It  was  nearly  a  fortnight  from  the  time  I  first 
met  Lady  Lee  (the  name  with  which  I  had  chris- 
tened my  new  friend,  and  which  she  immediately 
acknowledged),  that  in  taking  my  usual  stroll  I  saw 
her  at  a  distance  in  her  accustomed  place,  but  not 
alone.  Xhe  slender  figure  of  a  lady  was  beside 
her,  evidently  visiting  with  her,  very  much  as  I  had 
done.  I  came  very  near  them  before  they  observed 
me ;  then  Lady  Lee  gave  a  start  of  delight,  and 


Lady   Lee  29 

her  companion  one  of  surprise.  As  plainly  as  though 
it  had  been  expressed  in  words,  the  little  mare  invited 
me  to  approach.  I  was  about  to  pass  on,  with  a 
touch  of  the  hat  ;  but  before  I  could  do  so,  the 
bright  intelligent  head  of  the  filly  was  thrust  before 
me,  my  course  was  gently  turned  aside,  and  I  found 
myself  face  to  face  with  Lady  Lee's  companion. 
The  thing  was  done.  An  introduction  had  taken 
place,  and  I  involuntarily  joined  in  the  laugh  which 
the  young  lady  could  not  repress. 

1 1  presume  we  are  introduced  by  a  mutual  friend,' 
I  observed  ;  '  and  certainly  by  one  whose  endorse- 
ment is  genuine.' 

4 1  think  so,'  she  replied.  c  One  who  can  win 
the  love  of  an  animal  must  have  good  qualities.' 

'  Or  seem  to  have  ? '  I  asked,  at  the  same  time 
handing  her  my  card. 

1  No  ! '  said  she.  c  A  fine  horse's  instincts  are 
much  like  a  woman's.  They  detect  the  genuine 
and  reject  the  spurious.' 

'  I  fear,  then,  our  little  friend  has  a  bad  master, 
or  she  would  not  be  so  often  away  from  home. 
Do  you  know  who  owns  her  ? ' 


30  Lady   Lee 

4  I  do  not.  My  acquaintance  with  her  is  a 
recent  one,  but  we  are  good  friends, —  are  n't  we, 
beauty  ? '  and  she  stroked  the  shapely  neck  beside 
her.  I  noticed  then,  for  the  first  time,  some  long 
ridges  on  the  flanks  of  the  mare,  showing  plainly 
she  had  recently  been  beaten,  and  not  with  a  com- 
mon whip,  either.  I  called  the  young  lady's  atten- 
tion to  this,  and  a  shadow  passed  over  her  face 
like  a  ruffle  over  the  surface  of  a  clear  lake.  I  knew 
we  both  felt  the  same  sentiment  of  indignation  at 
the  brute  in  human  form  who  had  been  guilty  of 
the  cruelty. 

While  we  were  talking,  I  saw  a  man  at  some 
distance  coming  along  the  path  toward  us.  Lady 
Lee  also  noticed  him  ;  she  pricked  her  ears,  and 
snuffed  ominously.  It  was  evident  she  was  ill  at 
ease ;  and  as  the  man  came  nearer  she  started  as 
though  about  to  run  away.  I  spoke  kindly  to  her, 
which  she  quickly  acknowledged,  but  did  not  take 
her  eyes  from  the  approaching  figure.  It  was  painful 
to  see  her  anxiety  ;  and  the  young  lady  by  my  side 
seemed  to  be  watching  matters  with  the  greatest 
interest. 


Lady   Lee  31 

1  Hold  on  to  her,  stranger  ! '  the  man  called  out, 
when  he  had  approached  within  a  few  rods ;  but  at 
the  sound  of  his  voice  the  little  filly  started  ner- 
vously, and  bounded  away  at  a  pace  it  was  useless 
for  him  to  attempt  to  follow. 

4  Consarn  her  ! '  said  the  man,  as  he  came  up  to 
us,  his  face  flushed  and  every  feature  showing  anger. 
4  That  infernal  brute  gives  me  more  trouble  than 
all  my  other  hosses  together.' 

'  In  what  way  ? '   I   inquired. 

1  Why,  in  runnin'  away,'  he  replied.  4 1  hain't 
got  a  fence  on  the  place  that  '11  keep  her  in.' 

c  And  so  you  beat  her  with  a  fence-rail,  to  try 
to  coax  her  to  stay  with  you,  do  you  ?  Have  you 
ever  thought  that  it  might  be  your  cruelty  that 
drives  her  away  from  home  ? ' 

'  If  she  do  n't  behave  she 's  got  to  be  licked, 
hain't  she  ?  "  Spare  the  rod  an'  spile  the  child." 
That 's  Bible  doctrine  for  children,  an'  I  reckon  it  '11 
hold  good  for  animals.' 

4  Yes,  and  I  think  the  Almighty  will  put  it 
into  practice  sometime,  and  that  you  will  be  the 
animal.' 


32  Lady   Lee 

'  Me  ?  Why,  I  'm  a  deacon  in  the  church,  in 
good  an'  reg'lar  standin',  an'  give  more  to  the  cause 
than  any  other  man  in  town.' 

1  And  then  go  home  and  impose  upon  the  helpless 
creatures  that  God  has  placed  in  your  charge,  not 
for  any  wrong  they  have  done,  but  because  you  are 
angry,  and  must  vent  your  rage  on  something.  If 
your  religion  does  n't  keep  you  in  check,  and  prayer 
is  of  no  avail,  why  do  n't  you  go  out  into  the  fields 
and  relieve  your  mind  by  swearing  ?  This,  at  all 
events,  will  not  hurt  others,  even  if  it  does  n't  help 
you.  But  I  will  give  you  a  little  practical  aid  in 
the  pursuit  of  godliness,  by  offering  to  buy  this  colt 
that  is  such  a  stumbling-block  in  your  religious  path. 
I  will  give  you  four  hundred  dollars  for  her.' 

The  keen  grey  eyes  of  the  man  sparkled  as  he 
heard  the  offer  ;  and  I  saw  his  sordid,  grasping 
nature.  He  quickly  began  to  extol  the  mare's  good 
qualities,  as  strongly  as  he  had  previously  railed 
against  her. 

4  That  colt 's  more  promisin'  than  any  on  the 
place,'  said  he,  'an'  she's  dirt  cheap  at  four  hundred. 
I  wouldn't  sell  her  nohow  if't  wan't  for  her  pesky 


Lady   Lee  33 

habit  o'  jumpin'  out  o'  the  lot.  My  folks  thinks 
a  heap  of  her,  too  ;  an'  I  'd  hate  to  part  with  her 
myself.' 

But  I  cut  him  short.  4 1  want  no  jockeying,'  I 
said.  4  Do  you  wish  to  sell  or  not  ? ' 

After  a  few  more  hypocritical  protests,  he  agreed 
to  my  terms,  and  said  he  would  deliver  the  mare 
that  evening. 

1  No,  indeed,'  I  replied,  c  I  '11  see  to  her  delivery 
myself.' 

1  Kin  you  ketch  her  ? ' 

4 1  '11  attend  to  that.' 

I  But  you  've  got  no  halter.' 

I 1  do  not  need  one.' 

1  Wai,  mebbe  you  're  a  hoss-tamer  —  I  do  n't 
know.' 

'  I  am.      Do  you  want  to  know  how  I  do  it  ? ' 

'  Cert'nly.' 

4  By  kindness.  Suppose  you  try  it.  But  I  fear 
it  would  n't  come  in  your  line.  If  you  could  be 
born  again,  there  might  be  some  hope  for  you.' 

With  that  I  turned  to  the  young  lady,  who  had 
been  an  interested  witness  of  our  conversation,  and 


34  Lady   Lee 

offered  to  escort  her  home,  telling  the  farmer  to  call 
at  the  hotel  that  evening  for  his   money. 

There  was  a  singular  charm  about  my  new 
acquaintance.  Doubtless  the  novel  introduction  had 
something  to  do  with  it ;  but  I  found  myself  growing 
more  and  more  interested  as  we  chatted  and  strolled 
along.  She  was  not  one  to  impress  a  man  strongly 
at  first  sight,  although  she  was  unquestionably  beau- 
tiful ;  but  a  few  moments'  conversation  served  to 
reveal  a  nature  wonderfully  womanly  and  yet  strong 
in  fibre.  I  knew  instinctively  that  she  loved  the 
world  of  art  in  all  its  forms,  but  drew  her  highest 
inspiration  from  Nature.  And  so  I  found  myself 
surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  of  sentiment,  of  pleas- 
ure, and  of  healthfulness.  She  was  spending  the 
summer  with  her  mother,  in  a  quiet  hotel  across 
the  river,  and  some  two  miles  up  the  stream.  She 
took  long  walks  each  day,  usually  in  new  directions, 
and  seemed  to  be  familiar  with  the  country  and  its 
beauties.  When  I  returned  to  the  hotel  I  realized 
that  in  Miss  Elmore  I  had  found  more  than  a  passing 
acquaintance ;  and  thoughts  of  her  filled  my  mind 


Lady  Lee  35 

during  the  remainder  of  the  day,  and  inspired  my 
dreams  that  night. 

I  found  the  monotony  of  country  life  strikingly 
varied  by  my  attempts  to  break  Lady  Lee  to  harness. 
She  was  gentle  and  docile,  but  she  had  some  little 
peculiarities  of  her  own.  One  of  these  was  a  strong 
dislike  to  having  anything  in  her  mouth  that  she 
could  not  eat.  It  was  a  laborious  task,  but  she 
seemed  to  understand  that  we  were  good  friends ; 
and  at  last  she  became  tractable,  and  I  drove  her  to 
wagon  wherever  I  chose.  I  must  confess  this  was 
usually  in  the  direction  of  the  little  hotel  across  the 
river.  Miss  Elmore  took  a  surprising  interest  in  my 
pupil ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  I  found  myself 
speculating,  with  a  seriousness  that  was  almost  amus- 
ing in  its  novelty,  upon  the  problem  whether  or  not 
any  portion  of  the  lady's  interest  in  the  horse  could 
reasonably  be  appropriated  by  the  horse's  owner. 
However  that  might  be,  her  attentions  to  Lady  Lee 
were  clearly  marked,  and  as  clearly  reciprocated  by 
the  affectionate  animal. 

One  bright  morning  in  August,  the  very  mildness 


36  Lady   Lee 

of  which  foretold  the  coming  heat,  I  drove  Lady  Lee 
along  the  bank  of  the  river  in  the  direction  of  the 
little  hotel.  We  had  become  well  acquainted  with 
this  road  —  Lady  and  I, —  and  so  I  did  not  observe 
particularly  the  familiar  scene  around  me.  As  we 
came  to  a  bend  in  the  river,  I  saw  a  small  boat 
a  short  distance  up  the  stream,  and  instantly  rec- 
ognized its  occupant  as  Miss  Elmore.  The  quick 
eye  of  Lady  Lee  had  also  detected  this  fact,  and 
she  raised  her  ears  and  whinnied  knowingly.  As  we 
came  nearer,  I  called  Miss  Elmore's  name.  At 
the  sound  of  my  voice,  she  started  quickly,  and 
turned  so  suddenly  that  the  light  shell  she  was  pulling 
careened,  and  in  another  instant  she  was  in  the  water. 
At  that  moment,  however  uncertain  I  may  have  been 
before,  I  had  no  doubts  regarding  the  nature  of  my 
feeling  for  Miss  Elmore. 

I  knew  the  distance  was  so  great  that  my 
strength  would  not  avail  to  rescue  her.  And  yet 
what  could  I  do  ?  I  turned  toward  Lady  Lee.  She 
stood  trembling  in  every  muscle,  her  nostrils  dilated 
to  their  utmost,  with  her  gaze  fixed  upon  the  spot 
where  Miss  Elmore  had  sunk.  Quick  as  thought  I 


Lady   Lee  37 

saw  a  means  of  rescue.  I  would  swim  Lady  Lee 
and  save  the  woman  I  then  knew  I  loved.  Xo 
loosen  the  mare  from  the  vehicle  was  the  work  of 
a  moment ;  but  before  I  could  act  further,  before  I 
could  even  think,  she  had  bounded  away  from  me, 
had  plunged  into  the  stream,  and  was  swimming 
rapidly  toward  the  overturned  boat.  Even  now, 
with  all  the  losses  Time  extorts  from  Memory,  I 
can  see  her.  I  see  the  proud  head  carried  high 
above  the  stream ;  the  strong  flanks  as  they  part 
the  waters  and  propel  the  beautiful  animal  through 
them;  the  queenly  mane,  the  sweeping  tail, —  all 
are  pictured  as  clearly  as  if  it  were  yesterday.  I  see 
her  approach  the  boat  to  which  a  slender  form  is 
clinging ;  I  see  her  gently  turn  and  float  her  strong 
body  by  its  side.  I  see  the  brave  girl  twine  her 
white  hands  in  the  dark  mane,  and  draw  herself,  with 
a  grace  which  even  peril  cannot  banish,  upon  the 
back  of  Lady  Lee.  I  see  the  noble  creature  turn 
and  swim  straight  toward  me; — and  then  my  eyes 
become  so  dimmed  with  tears  that  I  see  no  more, 
until  I  find  my  darling's  head  upon  my  shoulder,  her 
arms  about  my  neck,  and  Lady  Lee  by  my  side. 


38  Lady  Lee 

How  rapidly  and  delightfully  the  balance  of  the 
summer  passed,  I  need  not  recount.  Every  day 
found  me  by  my  fiancee,  and  Lady  Lee  was  invari- 
ably with  us.  She  seemed  to  be  a  bond  of  union 
inseparable  from  our  love.  Through  her  we  first 
met,  by  her  we  were  betrothed,  —  and,  alas!  from 
her  we  were  soon  to  part.  She  appeared  at  times  to 
develop  more  than  human  instinct.  On  one  occa- 
sion, while  driving,  we  came  to  a  bridge  which  we 
had  often  crossed  before.  As  we  approached,  Lady 
Lee  showed  unusual  excitement,  and  when  we  came 
to  the  entrance  she  absolutely  refused  to  set  her  foot 
upon  it.  I  spoke  to  her  sharply ;  she  turned  her 
head  and  looked  at  me  appealingly,  but  refused  to 
advance  a  step.  I  stepped  to  her  head  and  attempted 
to  lead  her ;  but  it  was  useless.  Finally,  rather  than 
treat  her  harshly,  I  humored  her  supposed  whim, 
turned,  and  drove  in  another  direction.  The  change 
in  her  feelings  was  at  once  apparent.  She  pranced, 
raised  and  lowered  her  head  continually,  and  showed 
her  joy  in  innumerable  ways.  We  finished  a  delight- 
ful drive,  and  were  alighting  at  the  hotel,  when  the 
groom  informed  me  that  the  very  bridge  we  had 


Lady   Lee  39 

attempted  to  cross  had  gone  down  under  the  weight 
of  a  farmer's  empty  wagon,  killing  one  horse  and 
seriously  injuring  the  farmer.  I  have  often  wondered 
how  Lady  Lee  could  have  known  that  bridge  was 
unsafe.  Her  quick  sensibilities  possibly  felt  some 
ominous  tremble  the  last  time  she  had  crossed  it.  A 
vibration,  such  as  men  might  fail  to  notice,  is  often 
felt  by  even  so  ponderous  an  animal  as  an  elephant ; 
why,  then,  should  not  a  finely  bred  horse,  every  atom 
of  whose  body  is  alive  with  feeling,  detect  material 
dangers  that  duller  senses  overlook  ?  Be  that  as  it 
may,  we  were  saved  by  Lady  Lee  from  crossing  the 
bridge  which  went  down  under  the  weight  of  the 
next  one  who  essayed  it. 

I  found  that  Lady  Lee  possessed  great  possibilities 
of  speed.  Her  gait  was  natural  and  easy.  In  ordi- 
nary travel  she  assumed  the  long  swinging  step  uni- 
versal with  roadsters  ;  but  when  called  upon  for  any 
special  effort,  her  entire  manner  changed.  She  seized 
the  bit  firmly,  threw  her  ears  back,  lowered  her  body 
as  it  seemed  almost  a  foot,  spread  her  flanks  so  that 
her  hind  feet  fell  fully  six  inches  outside  of  the  fore 
feet,  and  without  a  particle  of  lateral  motion  shot 


40  .        Lady   Lee 

straight  forward  with  movements  as  regular  as  those 
of  an  engine  piston.  She  loved  to  show  her  speed  ; 
but  I  indulged  her  in  it  only  on  rare  occasions. 

Contrary  to  the  accepted  theories,  I  broke  her 
to  the  saddle.  I  was  fearful,  at  first,  that  she  would 
seek  to  put  in  practice  some  of  her  saddle  gaits  when 
being  driven ;  but  I  soon  found  her  gaits  and  manners 
were  entirely  different  when  before  a  wagon  and 
when  under  a  saddle. 

At  last  the  summer  ended,  and  I  returned  to  the 
city.  My  fiancee,  who  lived  with  her  mother  some 
distance  up-town,  was  to  remain  a  few  days  longer 
in  the  country ;  but  we  had  planned  more  than 
enough  to  occupy  our  leisure  time  on  her  return. 
Riding  and  driving  were  a  prominent  feature  of  our 
programme,  for  they  were  pastimes  of  which  we  were 
both  extremely  fond.  I  had  no  little  curiosity  to  see 
how  Lady  Lee,  a  shy  country  maiden,  would  accept 
the  noise,  bustle,  and  novel  sights  of  the  city.  The 
first  day  I  drove  her  after  returning  home,  I  met  a 
friend  soon  after  leaving  the  stable.  Stopping  to  chat 
with  him  a  moment,  I  spoke  to  Lady  Lee,  when  the 
unsophisticated  creature  started  ofF  upon  the  sidewalk, 


Lady   Lee  41 

thinking  it  a  better  road  than  the  street.  Poor  little 
thing  !  —  she  had  never  seen  a  sidewalk  before.  But 
she  quickly  dropped  into  city  ways,  and  became 
accustomed  to  city  sights  —  even  the  elevated  rail- 
roads. There  were  a  few  things,  however,  she  never 
could  fully  understand.  Principal  among  these  were 
the  statues  in  the  Park.  She  never  passed  the  Web- 
ster- monument  without  looking  up,  almost  with 
veneration,  at  the  massive  man  who  stood  there 
silent  and  grand.  The  power  he  exercised  over 
humanity  when  alive  seemed  to  be  felt  by  this  sen- 
sitive creature  even  in  its  bronze  embodiment. 

The  winter  passed,  with  its  snows,  its  sleigh- 
bells,  its  storms,  and  its  pleasures ;  and  spring  was 
foretold  by  buds  and  birds.  Old  men,  who  had 
hibernated  all  winter,  ventured  out  in  close  carriages, 
wrapped  in  furs  to  the  chin.  Dowagers  who  were 
recovering  from  the  effects  of  social  campaigning  in 
a  determined  effort  to  keep  their  position  on  a  par 
with  their  money,  were  out  in  the  Park  resplendent 
in  rumbling  carriages  and  jingling  harnesses.  It  was 
upon  one  of  the  days  that  bring  the  squirrel  from 
his  home  to  feed  on  the  newly  formed  buds,  that 


42  Lady   Lee 

Miss  Elmore  and  I  rode  through  the  Park  together. 
We  were  both  in  such  a  happy  frame  of  mind  that 
we  found  little  to  say ;  yet  everything  about  us 
seemed  to  contribute  to  our  enjoyment.  After  fin- 
ishing the  Park,  we  rode  on  toward  the  Riverside 
Drive,  and  drew  our  horses  up  to  take  in  the  won- 
derful view  from  the  height  near  Grant's  Xomb. 
Lady  Lee  seemed  to  enjoy  the  sight  as  much  as  we 
did.  She  would  look  up  the  river  toward  the  Pali- 
sades, glance  at  Fort  Lee,  and  draw  deep  breaths  of 
healthful  enjoyment.  We  turned  reluctantly  from 
the  scene,  and  rode  leisurely  down  the  drive,  con- 
scious only  of  happiness,  and  with  no  premonition 
of  possible  disaster. 

We  had  gone  perhaps  half  a  mile,  when  I  heard 
a  heavy  rolling  of  wheels,  a  quick  clatter  of  hoofs, 
and  the  sound  of  voices,  around  a  bend  in  the  drive 
just  behind  us.  I  turned  in  the  saddle,  and  saw  a 
heavy  carnage,  drawn  by  a  large  pair  of  horses  over 
which  the  driver  had  lost  all  control.  They  were 
coming  toward  us.  I  instantly  spoke  to  Miss  Elmore, 
telling  her  to  draw  out  of  the  road ;  and  I  at  once 
tightened  the '  reins  upon  Lady  Lee.  She  seemed 


Lady   Lee 

understand   the   situati. 
e  team  came  by  ! 
to  the  same  rate  > 

quickly  drew  akv 
e  nearest  horse.      At  th 
ickened   her  pace,  giving  me 
e  reins  I  desired.      The 


en|e()(t 
nearest  horse.' 


.DRAWING  BY  MAX  F.  KLEPP£R. 


rget  herself  or  swt 
leek  which  had  been  given 

em   under  subjection,  and  I  ied  Lady   Lee  to  the 
he  drive,  where  I  was  quickly  ji 


OIIJp    1 


Lady  Lee  43 

to  understand  the  situation  perfectly,  so  that  when 
the  team  came  by  her  side  she  was  ready  to  break 
into  the  same  rate  of  speed  as  that  of  the  runaways. 
I  quickly  drew  alongside,  and  seized  the  bridle  of 
the  nearest  horse.  At  the  same  moment,  Lady  Lee 
slackened  her  pace,  giving  me  just  the  purchase  on 
the  reins  I  desired.  The  sudden  movement  checked 
the  animal's  speed,  and  seemed  to  recall  him  to  his 
senses  -,  but  his  mate,  maddened  by  the  check  he 
had  received,  plunged  forward  and  sideways  with 
increased  fury,  and  in  doing  so  turned  the  pole  of 
the  wagon  abruptly  around.  Before  I  could  prevent 
it,  I  saw  the  sharp  end  of  the  pole,  surmounted  by 
the  silver-plated  serpentine  point  such  as  the  Devil 
of  Fashion  alone  could  have  devised,  pierce  the  neck 
of  Lady  Lee  just  above  the  breast,  and  as  quickly 
emerge  followed  by  a  crimson  stream  from  a  large 
artery.  I  felt  the  noble  animal  tremble  beneath  me 
with  pain;  but  not  for  an  instant  did  she  seem  to 
forget  herself  or  swerve  from  the  duty  at  hand.  The 
check  which  had  been  given  the  team  soon  brought 
them  under  subjection,  and  I  led  Lady  Lee  to  the 
side  of  the  drive,  where  I  was  quickly  joined  by  my 


44  Lady   Lee 

companion.  I  applied  my  handkerchief  to  the  wound, 
but  it  was  swept  away  by  the  crimson  torrent.  I 
seized  a  blanket  from  the  bewildered  coachman,  who 
was  standing  beside  his  panting  team  ;  but  it  also 
was  quickly  saturated.  '  My  God  ! '  I  cried,  '  must 
I  stand  here  and  see  the  life  go  out  of  this  lovely 
creature  without  a  possibility  of  checking  it  ?  Is 
there  no  Power  that,  recognizing  an  heroic  sacrifice, 
yet  permits  the  innocent  victim  to  suffer  ?  Are  we 
indeed  in  Hebrew  times,  when  lambs,  doves,  and 
embodied  innocence  must  be  sacrificed  on  the  altar 
of  human  pride  ? '  And  then  in  my  heart  I  cursed 
the  demon  Fashion,  that  puts  torturing  appliances 
at  the  sides  of  horses'  mouths  to  make  them  champ 
and  prance ;  that  docks  their  tails,  and  trims  their 
hoofs  down  to  the  quick ;  that  loads  them  with 
heavy-plated  harnesses,  jingling  and  irritating  chains, 
and  pointed  poles  to  pierce  the  necks  of  innocent 
dumb  companions.  What  I  said,  what  I  did,  I  only 
partially  remember  ;  but  I  know  a  weeping  girl  clung 
to  me,  while  we  both  stroked  the  head  of  our  friend 
dying  before  us.  There  she  lay  upon  the  freshly- 
started  grass,  her  strength  failing  at  every  heart-throb. 


Lady  Lee  45 

Her  eyes,  once  so  fiery,  were  slowly  losing  their 
lustre.  Her  head,  always  so  proud,  lay  feebly  upon 
the  turf.  But  she  still  acknowledged  the  caresses 
we  bestowed,  and  her  glance  still  spoke  her  affection. 
We  bowed  our  heads  upon  the  poor  dumb  face ; 
and  so,  surrounded  by  loving  human  friends,  and 
without  a  struggle,  the  life  spirit  of  Lady  Lee 
departed. 


GENTLEMAN  JACK 


GENTLEMAN   JACK. 


E  was  one  of  the  smallest 
canine  creatures  I  ever 
saw,  on  the  day  I 
received  him,  nicely 
packed  in  a  basket, 
direct  from  the  company 
of  his  mother,  brothers, 
and  sisters.  His  newly 
opened  eyes  blinked  in- 
quiringly, as  the  cover 
was  taken  from  the  basket ;  and  when  I  lifted  him 
out  and  placed  him  on  the  table  he  cried  pitifully,  as 
though  he  felt  lost  and  homeless.  I  stroked  his  soft 
fur  gently,  and  at  the  touch  he  turned  and  licked 
my  hand,  piteously  begging  me  not  to  harm  him. 
*  Poor  little  Jack,'  I  thought,  4  only  two  weeks  in 
this  world,  and  cast  out  upon  the  uncertain  mercy 
of  mankind  !  One  who  knows  the  brutality  of  man 
cannot  wonder  that  you  plead  for  tenderness.' 

I    felt   drawn   toward   the   little   fellow  from    the 


50  Gentleman  Jack 

first.  He  was  a  charming  combination  of  pink  and 
white,  with  large  brown  eyes  that  opened  and  closed 
uncertainly.  His  attempts  to  walk  were  laughable. 
He  would  start  out,  after  mature  deliberation,  lifting 
his  pudgy  feet  in  the  most  determined  manner,  and 
end  by  a  curious  reel  and  a  fall  upon  his  nose. 
But  he  never  seemed  discouraged  ;  neither  would  he 
show  the  least  flinching,  when  I  lifted  him  by  the 
back  of  the  neck  and  set  his  wayward  steps  right. 
Indeed,  even  at  that  early  age  he  always  looked  up 
into  my  face  after  such  service,  as  if  to  thank  me. 
His  education  seemed  to  be  a  natural  outgrowth 
of  our  good  feelings  toward  each  other.  Most  of 
the  suggestions  that  I  made  were  well  received, 
although  I  found  the  little  fellow  had  the  stubborn 
will-power  characteristic  of  all  bull-terriers.  When- 
ever I  gave  him  a  lesson  on  any  subject,  he  would 
seem  to  reflect  upon  it,  and  his  subsequent  conduct 
decided  whether  or  not  a  second  lesson  was  required. 
But  he  came  successfully  through  the  various  stages 
of  puppyhood,  gradually  dropping  the  awkward  ways 
incident  to  his  rapid  growth,  and  at  last  developed 
into  as  fine  a  creature  as  I  could  desire.  Even  while 


Gentleman  Jack  51 

growing,  he  seemed  to  possess  a  natural  dignity  of 
manner;  and  when  fully  developed,  this  quality 
became  fixed.  He  was  courteous  to  everyone,  but 
not  over-familiar  even  to  me.  He  showed  a  keen 
enjoyment  of  life,  but  always  kept  it  within  proper 
bounds. 

I  provided  him  a  home  at  the  stable,  where  was 
kept,  in  addition  to  the  horses,  a  little  Scotch  terrier. 
Jack  seemed  to  realize  instinctively  his  position  as 
a  superior  being,  but  he  always  showed  the  greatest 
deference  and  courtesy  to  the  little  terrier.  He 
never  objected  in  the  least  when  she  snatched  the 
food  from  before  him,  or  protested  even  if  she  took 
it  out  of  his  mouth.  But  how  different  was  his 
conduct  with  other  dogs  !  Whenever  a  small  dog 
came  about  the  stable  he  would  watch  him  intently, 
following  him  everywhere,  but  never  harming  him, 
unless  he  undertook  to  disturb  something,  when  a 
warning  mutter  was  usually  sufficient.  The  same 
was  true  with  dogs  of  the  opposite  sex.  But  when- 
ever any  other  dog,  no  matter  how  large  he  might 
be,  came  within  his  jurisdiction,  there  were  never 
any  preliminaries, —  no  questions  were  asked, — Jack 


52  Gentleman  Jack 

attacked  him  at  once,  and  he  was  always  victorious. 
And  yet  he  did  not  seem  really  to  care  for  fighting, 
—  it  rather  appeared  to  him  a  duty,  and  he  discharged 
it  in  a  direct  and  business-like  way. 

Jack  seemed  to  have  some  peculiar  notions  of 
the  rights  of  sex  in  human  beings.  He  acknowledged 
me  as  master,  and  would  obey  my  commands  — 
except  in  the  matter  of  fighting ;  but  he  would  take 
no  orders  from  my  wife.  He  was  greatly  attached 
to  her,  planned  for  her  happiness  on  several  occa- 
sions—  as,  for  example,  when  he  collected  a  motley 
bouquet  of  weeds  and  flowers  from  the  garden,  which 
he  presented  to  her,  holding  it  in  his  mouth  —  but 
he  would  never  obey  her.  He  would  not  rebel,  he 
simply  ignored  her  commands. 

A  strong  attachment  sprang  up  between  Jack  and 
the  horses,  especially  my  favorite  mare.  I  often 
saw  them  hobnobbing  together  in  the  most  intelli- 
gent manner,  and  it  was  a  common  thing  for  Jack 
to  forsake  his  soft  bed  and  sleep  in  the  same  box 
stall  with  her.  One  day  the  coachman  got  under 
the  influence  of  liquor.  In  attempting  to  groom  the 
mare,  he,  for  some  reason,  became  enraged,  and,  as 


many  drunken  ; 
do,  sought 

brutal 

ing  :, 

' 


.  *•  The  animal  dm  would  not  sec  his  friend  aim 
from  the  hands  of  the  sf^v-  ,•  ,   , 

ffle  "hrftom  in  his  mouth.' 


growling  before  him.^Qj^;^    ,    (-ARrrR  HKAR,». 
of  the  act  sobered  an 
away,  leaving   the    t* 
and  open  to  mutual  i 

There  came  a  time  when  •' 
became  the  m<;  .; 
amusing   to  see    how  Jack    reg,:, 
more  amusing  to  see  how  indulgent  i, 
No  matter  how  much  they  insisted  .vith 

him,   he   never   refused   their   whims.      I    have    seen 
them   sink   their   little  teeth    into   his  .ears,  and    bite 


Gentleman   Jack  53 

many  drunken  (and  too  many  presumably  sober)  men 
do,  sought  to  vent  his  anger  on  something  defence- 
less. He  seized  the  broom  and  struck  the  mare  a 
brutal  blow  on  the  quarters.  Jack  was  quietly  sleep- 
ing at  the  other  end  of  the  stable  when  the  blow 
was  struck,  but  he  instantly  awoke,  and  started  up 
in  surprise.  Again  the  broom  was  raised,  and,  that 
the  blow  might  be  effective,  was  carried  far  back- 
ward ;  but  it  did  not  descend  upon  the  horse.  The 
animal  that  would  not  see  his  friend  abused  seized 
the  broom  in  his  mouth  from  behind,  wrenched  it 
from  the  hands  of  the  groom,  and  stood  glaring  and 
growling  before  him.  The  suddenness  and  firmness 
of  the  act  sobered  and  cowed  the  man,  and  he  slunk 
away,  leaving  the  two  friends  masters  of  the  'field 
and  open  to  mutual  congratulations. 

There  came  a  time  when  the  little  Scotch  terrier 
became  the  mother  of  some  smaller  terriers.  It  was 
amusing  to  see  how  Jack  regarded  them,  and  still 
more  amusing  to  see  how  indulgent  he  was  to  them. 
No  matter  how  much  they  insisted  on  playing  with 
him,  he  never  refused  their  whims.  I  have  seen 
them  sink  their  little  teeth  into  his  ears,  and  bite 


54  Gentleman  Jack 

his  foreleg  (the  most  sensitive  spot  in  a  dog's  anat- 
omy), but  I  never  heard  a  whimper  or  even  a  protest. 
Indeed,  while  the  mother  often  neglected  the  edu- 
cation of  her  offspring,  I  have  seen  Jack  encourage 
the  youngsters  in  their  rummagings  among  the  straw 
for  possible  rats.  The  fact  that  his  mission  on  earth 
was  not  that  of  a  rat-catcher  did  not  seem  to  deter 
him  in  his  interest  in  the  training  of  those  who  were 
so  called. 

It  happened  one  day  that  a  heedless  puppy,  scout- 
ing about,  fell  into  the  water  tank.  He  was  so 
quickly  submerged  that  he  could  not  utter  a  cry  ; 
but  the  alert  ear  of  Jack  detected  the  splash.  Run- 
ning to  the  side  of  the  tank,  Jack  took  in  the  situa- 
tion, and  in  another  instant  he  was  splashing  about 
in  the  water  and  trying  to  seize  the  unfortunate 
puppy.  At  last  he  was  successful,  and  brought  the 
limp  little  animal  forth,  dripping,  and  looking  more 
like  a  sponge  than  anything  else.  After  he  had 
succeeded  in  fishing  him  out,  Jack  gave  the  urchin 
a  vigorous  shaking,  ostensibly  to  dry  his  coat,  but  I 
have  always  suspected  that  it  was  for  the  additional 
purpose  of  giving  him  a  warning  to  be  more  careful 


Gentleman  Jack  55 

in  future.  A  close  examination  of  the  puppy,  how- 
ever, showed  that  the  skin  had  not  been  injured  in 
the  least,  but  that  he  had  been  seized  by  his  long 
matted  hair. 

But  if  Jack's  actions  toward  helpless  members 
of  the  canine  race  were  marked  by  striking  peculiar- 
ities, they  were  no  less  so  toward  those  of  the  human 
race.  The  first  time  our  nurse  wheeled  the  baby  in 
the  yard,  Jack  came  out  of  the  stable  and  gravely 
inspected  both  the  carriage  and  its  contents.  He 
looked  up  into  the  face  of  the  nurse,  and  then  at 
my  window,  where  I  was  an  interested  spectator. 
Something  like  a  smile  seemed  to  steal  over  his  face ; 
he  wagged  his  tail  approvingly,  nodded  his  head,  and 
returned  to  the  stable ;  but  thereafter  he  always  took 
an  absorbing  interest  in  the  child.  I  have  seen  him 
stand  and  look  down  into  her  baby  face,  while  she 
laughed,  crowed,  pulled  his  ears  and  pounded  his 
nose,  and  all  the  while  Jack  seemed  to  be  enjoying 
the  operation  as  much  as  she  did. 

On  one  occasion  the  nurse  was  wheeling  the 
little  one,  when  the  letter-carrier,  in  his  grey  suit, 
came  along.  For  some  reason  the  carriage  seemed 


56  Gentleman   Jack 

to  obstruct  his  way,  and  he  pushed  it  hastily  to  one 
side,  at  the  same  time  speaking  harshly.  The  child 
began  to  cry,  when,  with  a  single  bound,  and  before 
the  carrier  really  knew  what  had  occurred,  Jack  had 
torn  his  collar  and  tie  completely  from  his  throat  and 
stood  glaring  at  him  defiantly.  The  man  hastened 
away ;  but  from  that  time  Jack  cherished  a  strong 
antipathy  to  letter-carriers  or  anyone  dressed  in  grey. 

Appreciation  of  humor  is  largely  a  matter  of 
education.  The  savage  sees  the  ludicrous  only  in 
physical  mishaps ;  the  highly  cultivated,  in  mental 
subtleties.  I  have  often  detected  a  glimmer  of  mirth 
in  many  animals,  but  I  never  saw  the  faculty  so  keen 
as  in  my  canine  protege.  He  always  enjoyed  the 
mishaps  of  others,  although  solicitous  for  the  welfare 
of  the  unfortunate.  He  enjoyed  playing  tricks  of  a 
harmless  nature  upon  other  animals.  A  favorite  one 
was  to  feign  lameness,  and  thus  throw  certain  bullies 
off  their  guard.  The  satisfaction  he  enjoyed  when 
they  discovered  their  mistake  was  immense. 

And  now  I  come  to  the  tragic  portion  of  Jack's 
history.  It  was  midsummer.  The  season  of  roses 
had  passed ;  the  leaves  and  grasses  that  had  lately 


Gentleman   Jack  57 

been  so  bright  and  vigorous  lost  life  and  color,  and 
only  moved  their  dust-covered  blades  when  hot  passing 
breezes  compelled  it.  Humanity  seemed  to  share  the 
general  languor,  and  manifested  but  little  life  and  less 
enterprise.  In  the  midst  of  that  heated  term  I  was 
called  away  on  an  important  mission.  It  promised 
to  keep  me  a  few  days  —  I  was  absent  a  fortnight. 
I  returned  on  one  of  the  hottest  days  of  that  never- 
to-be-forgotten  summer.  No  carnages  were  at  the 
station,  and  I  was  compelled  to  walk  to  my  home. 
As  I  turned  into  the  street  in  which  I  lived,  it  was 
a  relief  to  feel  the  shade  of  the  elms  that  bordered 
it  on  either  side.  I  glanced  toward  the  house,  and 
saw  two  children  playing  under  the  trees,  one  of 
whom,  even  at  that  distance,  I  recognized  as  my 
little  daughter.  Healthful  infant  life  will  assert  itself 
under  influences  that  would  oppress  maturer  years. 
The  heat  was  not  oppressive,  but  grateful,  to  my 
child.  I  came  within  a  block  of  where  the  children 
were  playing.  Their  laughter  was  ringing  in  my 
ears  and  thrilling  my  paternal  senses.  In  another 
minute  my  child's  arms  would  be  about  my  neck,  her 
dancing  eyes  looking  into  mine,  and  her  witching 


58  Gentleman   Jack 

voice  carolling  notes  of  love.  There  was  a  sudden 
movement  at  the  corner  just  beyond.  \Vhat  was 
once  a  noble  mastiff,  but  had  become  a  rabid  devil, 
darted  into  view.  His  mouth  was  white  with  foam  ; 
his  crimson  eyes  seemed  to  stand  out  from  his  head ; 
his  harsh  voice  was  fiercer  than  the  bloodhound's. 
He  saw  the  children,  and  their  innocent  presence 
seemed  to  increase  his  fury.  He  rushed  straight  for 
my  child.  I  saw  his  movement,  saw  the  policeman 
who  came  panting  around  the  corner  in  pursuit,  saw 
the  look  of  horror  upon  the  faces  of  the  children, 
but  I  was  powerless  to  move  a  muscle  —  paralyzed 
by  the  deadly  peril  of  my  innocent  child.  By  a 
supreme  effort  I  collected  my  faculties,  and  rushed 
forward ;  but  I  knew  I  should  be  too  late.  There 
was  an  inaudible  prayer  upon  my  lips  :  then  came  a 
quick  flash  of  white  across  the  scene,  and  my  prayer 
was  answered.  In  another  moment  my  child  was 
safe  in  my  arms,  while  in  a  writhing,  growling  mass 
upon  the  ground,  Jack  and  the  rabid  giant  were  set- 
tling the  question  of  existence.  I  knew  how  it 
would  end,  but  joy  for  the  safety  of  my  child  drove 
from  my  mind  all  other  thoughts.  I  caressed  her, 


w  ?«. 


Jack  and  the  rabid  giant  were  settling  the  question  of 

existence.' 
DRAWING  BY  J.  CARTER  BKAKIV 

i . Elected  my 
:i-\v  I  should  he 


Gentleman  Jack  59 

listened  to  the  music  of  her  happy  voice,  and  was 
carried  by  it  to  paradise.  But  like  lightning  came  a 
realization  of  Jack's  peril.  That  he  would  kill  the 
mastiff  was  certain ;  but  an  abrasion  of  the  skin, 
the  puncture  of  a  single  blood-vessel,  and  his  own 
fate  was  sealed. 

I  carried  my  little  daughter  into  the  house,  and 
hurriedly  returned.  It  was  nearly  over.  Even  the 
ferocity  of  madness  was  forced  to  give  way  before 
the  sturdy  strength  and  coolness  of  my  Jack.  As  he 
saw  his  work  was  done,  he  released  his  hold,  and 
turned  with  a  pleased,  even  joyous,  expression  toward 
me.  I  instinctively  shrank  from  him,  and  he  saw 
the  movement.  His  joyousness  vanished,  and  he 
looked  longingly  for  my  favor.  My  heart  was  too 
full  to  speak.  I  motioned  him  after  me,  and  went 
to  the  stable.  There  I  found  my  tongue,  and 'gave 
Jack  the  praise  that  he  felt  his  due.  A  thorough 
bath  restored  him  to  his  white  and  pure  color.  Then 
I  began  to  search  for  injuries.  I  failed  to  find  them ; 
but  on  one  ear  I  detected  a  slight  wound  —  nothing 
more.  I  sent  at  once  for  our  family  physician,  had 
it  cauterized,  and  hoped  against  hope  that  Jack  had 


60  Gentleman   Jack 

received  no  injury.  But  his  fine  sensibilities  detected 
my  anxiety  and  seriousness,  and  he  seemed  to  wonder 
at  it.  Poor  fellow  !  how  hard  he  tried  to  amuse  and 
divert  me  !  The  ordinary  forms  of  sport  were 
attempted,  and  then  he  invented  new  diversions.  At 
one  time  he  would  try  a  species  of  '  sleight  of  hand ' 
by  throwing  a  bone  in  the  air  and  apparently  catching 
it  in  his  mouth  as  it  came  down,  but  in  reality 
thrusting  it  under  his  blanket  so  quickly  I  could 
scarcely  detect  the  movement.  This  seemed  to  give 
him  much  amusement,  and  I  laughed  heartily  over 
it.  But  my  very  anxiety  made  me  serious,  and  much 
of  my  time  was  spent  in  observing  him.  And  yet 
his  happy  nature  seemed  to  be  unchanged.  Surely,  I 
thought,  the  seeds  of  evil  could  not  be  germinating 
in  his  blood. 

But  one  day  I  detected  a  change.  His  bright 
eyes  had  grown  listless,  and  his  active  body  seemed 
to  take  on  unwonted  languor.  He  became  morose, 
and  unmindful  of  things  about  him.  Occasionally 
he  would  start  at  the  sound  of  my  voice,  and  I 
would  catch  a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  old  nature ; 
but  it  would  soon  vanish,  like  the  sun  behind  a 


Gentleman  Jack  61 

cloud.  The  next  day  he  grew  worse,  and  I  heard 
him  muttering  to  himself,  though  gently,  as  if  his 
better  nature  were  pleading  with  the  horrible  demon 
that  was  growing  stronger  every  hour.  I  knew  the 
worst  was  true ;  but  my  heart  rebelled  against  the 
sacrifice  that  seemed  inevitable.  I  was  unreconciled 
that  an  act  of  such  courage  and  devotion  as  his 
should  lead  to  such  unjust  reward.  Here  was  a 
creature  of  a  despised  race,  —  a  race  kicked  by  men, 
persecuted  by  boys,  and  kept  down  by  the  worst 
passions  of  which  human  brutes  are  capable,  and 
yet  living  a  life  of  purity,  nobility,  devotion,  and 
sacrifice.  Here  was  a  dumb  creature,  superior  in 
mental  and  moral  life  to  many  men  in  high  social 
circles.  No  duplicity,  no  profiting  by  undue  advan- 
tage, no  lapses,  nothing  ignoble,  dishonest,  or  dis- 
honorable, could  at  any  time  be  charged  against  him. 
Now  he  was  surrendering  his  life  for  having  saved 
another's.  When  mankind  fully  realize  the  quiet 
devotion  even  under  abuse,  the  sacrifice  in  spite  of 
neglect,  which  our  dumb  friends  constantly  endure 
for  us,  it  will  be  a  happy  day,  for  it  will  indeed 
make  men  more  merciful. 


62  Gentleman   Jack 

I  went  into  the  house  and  brought  my  wife  and 
little  girl  to  where  Jack  was  lying.  I  took  the  child 
in  my  arms,  and,  bending  down  over  him,  told  her 
to  call  his  name.  At  the  first  sound  of  her  baby 
voice,  Jack  opened  his  eyes  quickly,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  intense  pain,  which  vanished  the  moment  he 
saw  who  had  spoken.  A  sense  of  happiness  seemed 
to  possess  him  ;  he  raised  one  paw  with  a  resump- 
tion of  his  former  dignity,  bowed  gracefully,  and 
wagged  his  tail.  Then  he  looked  at  me  beseech- 
ingly, as  if  pleading  to  be  delivered  from  the  strange 
oppression  that  was  stealing  over  him,  cast  another 
glance  of  love  at  my  child,  and  the  film  of  forget- 
fulness  again  came  over  his  eyes.  I  could  not 
restrain  my  tears,  and  we  returned  to  the  house  as 
from  a  funeral.  A  few  minutes  thereafter,  chloro- 
form had  done  its  work,  and  Gentleman  Jack  was 
no  more. 

Is  it  barbarity  that  causes  the  Indian  to  long  to 
meet  his  horse  and  dog  in  the  happy  hunting-ground  ? 
Is  it  not  rather  love  and  mercy  ?  Is  it  barbarity 
that  causes  me  to  long  for  another  meeting  with  the 
pure  spirit  that  animated  my  friend  Jack  ?  —  the 


Gentleman  Jack  63 

noble  spirit  which  was  temporarily  extinguished  that 
my  child's  life   might  be  prolonged  ? 

In  the  sunniest  corner  of  our  garden  is  a  flower 
bed,  carefully  rounded  and  tenderly  kept.  It  is  bor- 
dered by  forget-me-nots ;  while  in  its  centre  white 
carnations,  arranged  to  form  the  single  word  'JACK,' 
bloom  through  their  season.  But  whether  the  flowers 
of  summer  or  the  snows  of  winter  lie  above  that 
mound,  they  are  a  constant  emblem  of  the  white 
body  and  pure  spirit  of  my  dear  departed  friend, 
GENTLEMAN  JACK. 


UNION    SQUARE  JIM 


UNION   SQUARE   JIM. 


'N  a  snug  little  corner  of  an 
unused  dressing-room  at  the 
Union  Square  Theatre,  New 
York  City,  a  bright  and  quiet 
brindle  cat  had  made  her  bed. 
She  had  been  in  the  theatre 
less  than  a  year ;  and  while 
efficient  as  a  hunter,  and  a 
favorite  with  all  the  employees 
by  reason  of  her  gentle  ways, 
she  was  seldom  seen  in  the  corridors.  It  was  not 
surprising,  therefore,  that  she  had  not  been  missed 
for  several  days,  when  accidentally  George,  the  4  gas- 
man,' in  going  near  her  nest,  heard  the  plaintive 
cry  of  young  kittens.  He  immediately  entered  the 
old  dressing-room,  and  found  five  little  youngsters 
battling  each  other  for  the  favors  and  attention  of 
their  mother. 

Poor  pussy  had  been  without  food  since  the  birth 
of   her    children,   and   the   appealing   look    she   gave 


68  Union   Square  Jim 

George,  as  he  bent  down  over  her  nest,  touched  him. 
Every  day  thereafter  she  was  well  cared  for ;  but  her 
motherly  solicitude  and  office  kept  her  thin,  and  she 
seemed  little  more  than  the  shadow  of  her  former 
self.  It  was  more  than  a  week  before  she  ventured 
to  leave  her  little  family,  and  then,  as  she  drew  her 
gaunt  form  through  the  hall  about  the  dressing-rooms, 
she  seemed  an  object  of  pity.  As  she  was  returning 
to  her  charge,  she  chanced  to  meet  in  the  passage 
one  of  the  actors  in  the  4  All  Star '  Combination. 
She  tried  to  draw  to  one  side,  but  was  so  weak 
she  could  only  do  so  slowly.  The  frowning  actor 
was  just  going  upon  the  stage,  and,  catching  sight  of 
the  shrinking  creature  before  him,  and  under  some 
strange  impulse  of  brutish  anger,  he  lifted  his  foot 
and  threw  her  heavily  to  one  side.  She  fell  against 
the  wall,  and,  too  weak  to  cry  out,  sank  down 
motionless  in  the  corridor.  She  was  found  in  that 
position  about  fifteen  minutes  later,  mewing  plaint- 
ively to  herself  and  rolling  upon  the  matting  in  pain. 
George  was  sent  for,  but  his  duties  behind  the  cur- 
tain just  then  required  all  his  attention.  When  the 
final  curtain  had  been  rung  down,  he  hurried  to  the 


Union   Square  Jim  69 

dressing-room  where  the  gentle  creature  had  been 
taken,  and  sought  in  his  unskilled  but  kindly  way 
to  ascertain  the  nature  of  her  injury.  It  needed  little 
time  to  see  that  she  was  badly  hurt.  Several  ribs 
were  broken,  and  there  were  probably  other  injuries. 
George  tried  to  dress  the  hurt  and  make  the  poor 
creature  comfortable,  although  he  felt  there  was  little 
hope  in  the  undertaking.  For  four  days  Roxey  lay 
upon  her  bed,  suffering  constantly,  but  trying  to 
impart  life  to  her  crying  kittens.  On  the  afternoon 
of  the  fifth  day,  it  was  evident  that  poor  Roxey  could 
not  live  much  longer.  George  had  seriously  thought 
of  ending  her  misery  ;  but  that  meant  death  to  the 
kittens  also,  and  the  kind-hearted  fellow  could  not 
bring  himself  to  do  it.  The  faithful  mother  tenderly 
washed  all  of  her  little  family,  one  by  one ;  then  she 
drew  them  all  about  her  as  if  for  a  last  embrace,  and 
passed  away  as  quietly  and  gently  as  she  had  lived. 
George  drew  his  rough  hand  across  his  face,  and, 
tenderly  lifting  Roxey,  had  her  taken  away. 

'  But  what  can  we  do  with  these  kittens  ?  '  he 
asked  of  Frank,  his  assistant. 

4  Let 's   try   and   raise    them,'    said    the   generous 


;o  Union   Square  Jim 

young  man,  though  he  had  little  notion  how  it  was 
to  be  done. 

The  devices  resorted  to  by  these  willing  fellows 
were  numerous  and  ingenious ;  but  they  saw  the 
little  survivors,  one  by  one,  pine  away  and  finally 
die,  until  but  a  single  one  remained.  He  was  a 
diminutive  dun  specimen,  looking  in  many  respects 
like  a  fine  sponge.  Apparently  he  had  been  the 
weakest  of  the  family  ;  yet  he  alone  survived.  The 
two  friends  watched  him  carefully.  His  little  mouth 
was  always  in  motion  when  he  was  awake,  either 
mewing  gently  or  trying  to  take  the  food  George 
offered  him.  It  was  interesting  to  watch  the  process 
of  feeding  to  which  he  was  subjected,  and  for  days 
it  seemed  as  if  he  must  die.  But  finally  he  began 
to  rallv,  then  to  thrive,  and  in  a  short  time  he  was 
as  bright  and  mischievous  a  kitten  as  one  would  wish 
to  see. 

Poor  little  Jim  (he  had  early  been  christened  by 
that  name)  knew  nothing  of  the  companionship  of 
his  kind.  If  he  had  a  memory,  it  did  not  reach 
back  to  the  dark  days  before  his  eyes  were  open, 
when  he  could  not  even  see  his  suffering  mother. 


Union   Square  Jim  71 

The  only  beings  he  saw  or  knew  were  George  and 
Frank,  and  he  naturally  looked  up  to  them  as  his 
god-parents.  And  well  did  they  fill  the  office.  It 
seemed  to  be  their  special  amusement  to  plan  for 
little  Jim,  to  teach  him  tricks,  and,  in  general,  to 
educate  him  properly.  At  first  he  was  too  full  of 
life  and  far  too  frisky  to  grasp  the  meaning  of  any- 
thing but  play.  Tricks  to  him  were  only  another 
form  of  frolic.  Nothing  was  too  large  or  too  small 
for  him  to  play  with.  A  huge  old  rocking-chair, 
with  its  ponderous  motion,  was  a  delight  to  him  ; 
while  a  feather  sailing  across  the  floor  simply  set 
him  wild  with  glee.  George  purchased  a  little 
rubber  ball,  and  it  was  kept  pretty  busy  most  of 
the  time  bounding  away  from  the  kitten's  active 
paws.  The  student  of  grace  can  find  no  better 
teacher  than  a  young  kitten.  Every  act  is  natural, 
each  movement  is  the  c  poetry  of  motion.'  Such 
grace  and  such  life  can  only  come  from  the  perfec- 
tion of  animal  happiness. 

But  few  kittens  had  such  surroundings  or  such 
trainers  as  had  Jim.  Thrown  only  in  contact  with 
George  and  Frank,  he  instinctively  studied  their 


72  Union   Square  Jim 

ways,  and  very  soon  became  an  intelligent  and  most 
promising  little  animal.  He  learned  to  stand  erect, 
to  walk  on  his  hind  feet,  and  to  chase  his  tail  vigor- 
ously. He  quickly  understood  all  the  commands  of 
his  masters,  and  usually  obeyed  them  promptly, 
although  the  little  fellow  had  a  mind  and  a  will  of 
his  own  which  were  quite  comical  in  so  small  a 
body.  And  so  Jim  grew  without  the  sight  of  any 
other  animal,  his  only  ideas  of  life  being  drawn  from 
his  dressing-room  abode  and  from  the  occasional 
visits  of  George  and  Frank. 

One  day  the  stage  men  decided  to  show  him 
a  mouse.  They  accordingly  captured  one,  and, 
taking  it  into  Jim's  domain,  set  it  loose.  At  sight 
of  it  Jim's  eyes  dilated,  first  with  surprise  and  then 
with  joy.  He  came  up  to  the  little  creature  with 
an  evident  desire  to  play.  The  mouse  ran,  and  Jim 
instantly  seized  it.  In  doing  so,  however,  the  mouse 
succeeded  in  pinching  Jim's  nose,  and  the  surprise 
and  pain  caused  a  complete  stoppage  of  the  perform- 
ance. There  seemed  to  be  no  malice  in  Jim's  ad- 
vances, simply  the  spirit  of  play  which  had  always 
characterized  him. 


Union   Square  Jim  73 

It  was  not  long  after  the  above  episode  when 
Jim  began  to  explore  the  new  world  around  him. 
The  dingy  passages  in  the  theatre  and  under  the 
stage  were  his  entire  concept  of  the  world  ;  and  he 
soon  adapted  himself  to  his  surroundings  in  a  way 
satisfactory  to  himself,  if  not  to  everybody  around 
him.  Naturally  he  became  a  night  cat.  The  dim 
theatre  was  shut  up  during  the  day,  but  at  night  all 
was  life  and  brightness.  Jim  would  wander  about 
the  place,  looking  at  the  curious  actions  of  those 
upon  the  stage,  and  making  himself  perfectly  at  home 
everywhere.  Then,  when  the  curtain  was  rung 
down,  the  large  crowd  dispersed,  and  the  gas  turned 
out,  he  would  attach  himself  to  the  night  watchman 
and  accompany  him  on  his  rounds  during  the  long 
hours  of  the  night. 

During  the  greater  part  of  the  day  he  slept. 
Sometimes  his  fancy  took  him  away  from  the  aban- 
doned dressing-room,  and  then  he  would  select  such 
place  as  his  caprices  prompted.  Very  often  this  was 
the  green  cloth  upon  one  of  the  desks  in  the  business 
office.  He  was  always  permitted  to  occupy  this ; 


74  Union   Square  Jim 

but  on  one  occasion  a  brutal  '  advance  agent,'  who 
saw  him  there,  rudely  seized  him  and  threw  him  vio- 
lently to  the  floor.  No  one  happened  to  be  present 
except  a  call-boy,  but  he  instantly  ran  to  George 
and  reported  the  outrage.  Naturally  one  of  the  most 
peaceable  of  men,  George  became  furious,  and  rushed 
to  the  office.  He  found  the  'advance  agent '  quietly 
writing,  while  Jim  was  creeping  uneasily  up  and 
down,  eyeing  the  writer  suspiciously.  As  soon  as 
Jim  saw  his  friend  he  manifested  the  greatest  delight. 
He  rubbed  against  his  legs,  purred  loudly,  and 
showed  how  happy  he  felt  at  the  arrival  of  reinforce- 
ments. George  carefully  examined -Jim  to  see  if 
any  bones  had  been  broken.  Then  he  turned  to 
the  young  man. 

'•I  hear  you  threw  Jim  off'n  that  table;  is  it 
so  ? '  he  demanded. 

The  agent  looked  up  in  astonishment. 

'  I  found  the  infernal  cat  asleep  here  where  I 
wanted  to  write,  and  I  put  him  down.' 

4  Did  you  throw   him  down  ? ' 

4  Well,  yes,  I  dropped   him.' 


Union   Square  Jim  75 

1  You  're  a  nice  one,  you  are.  For  two  cents 
I  'd  drop  you  the  same  way.' 

1  You   would  ? ' 

'Yes,  I  would.' 

4  Go  along  and  tend  to  your  gas,  and  do  n't 
talk ' 

But  the  sentence  was  never  finished.  A  pugil- 
istic encounter  of  some  magnitude  took  place ;  and 
when  at  last  the  harsh  c  advance  agent,'  between 
gasps,  admitted  he  had  done  wrong  and  would  not 
do  so  again,  he  was  allowed  to  rise.  News  of  the 
encounter  spread  through  the  theatre,  and  soon 
reached  the  ears  of  the  manager.  He  at  once  insti- 
tuted an  inquiry  ;  but  when  he  heard  that  the  cause 
of  the  fracas  had  been  abuse  of  Jim,  he  not  only  did 
not  discharge  his  employee,  but  gave  the  advance 
agent  a  sound  lecture  on  cruelty  to  animals. 

It  was  perhaps  an  outgrowth  of  this  engagement 
that  caused  George  to  instruct  Jim  in  the  mysteries 
of  pugilism.  It  was  a  difficult  training,  but  at  last 
it  was  successful.  At  the  word  of  command,  Jim 
would  back  into  a  corner,  stand  erect,  and  put  up 
his  paws  in  the  proper  pugilistic  attitude.  Then 


76  Union   Square  Jim 

George  would  place  himself  in  front  of  him  and  aim 
a  pretended  blow  at  his  head.  This  blow  Jim  would 
ward  off  with  the  quickness  and  skill  of  a  boxer,  and 
immediately  strike  a  spirited  blow  in  return.  The 
sport  would  sometimes  continue  for  many  minutes, 
and  was  the  source  of  great  amusement  to  all 
lookers-on. 

It  was  surprising  what  a  home  body  Jim  proved 
to  be.  He  was  born,  and  literally  lived,  in  the 
theatre.  His  associates  were  men  and  women  ;  and 
he  studied  their  ways.  Is  it  any  wonder  this  had  its 
effect  upon  his  life  and  character  ?  One  of  the 
duties  which  George  performed  was  to  go  through 
every  part  of  the  theatre,  from  cellar  to  roof,  once 
each  day.  Jim  usually  accompanied  him.  Whether 
it  was  through  the  dim  corridors  of  the  basement 
where  scenery  was  stored  and  the  close  air  was  filled 
with  damp  odors,  or  up  about  the  roof  where  the 
sunlight  came  streaming  in,  the  two  friends  would 
go  together,  usually  in  the  best  of  moods. 

One  afternoon  during  the  summer  a  heavy 
shower  arose,  and  one  of  the  skylights  on  the  roof 
sprung  a  leak.  George  went  out  upon  the  roof 


Union   Square  Jim  77 

to  fix  it;  and  Jim  went  with  him.  The  defect- 
ive place  was  small,  and  it  required  little  work  to 
repair  it.  While  George  was  engaged  in  this  labor, 
Jim  went  roaming  about  the  housetop.  It  was  a 
pleasant  vacation  for  him,  and  he  was  evidently  dis- 
posed to  make  the  most  of  it.  George  was  busily 
engaged  with  his  repairs,  when  he  heard  a  sudden 
crash,  and  looking  up  quickly  he  saw  Jim,  who  had 
crept  across  a  skylight,  catching  frantically  at  the 
framework,  while  the  insecure  glass  broke  beneath 
him.  The  plucky  animal  caught  the  frame  with 
one  paw,  but  could  not  hold  on,  and  then,  before 
George's  eyes,  Jim  sank  from  sight  and  fell  down 
to  the  auditorium  below. 

George  knew  at  once  where  he  would  land. 
The  skylight  was  directly  over  the  centre  of  the 
parquet,  and  a  clean  fall  of  fully  eighty  feet  was 
inevitable.  Then  George  thought  of  those  long 
rows  of  patent  iron-backed  chairs.  What  if  Jim 
should  strike  the  back  of  one  of  them  !  Poor  Jim  ! 

George  hurried  down  stairs.  He  rushed  into  the 
parquet,  calling  Jim's  name  as  he  ran.  The  day- 
light was  too  dim  in  the  silent  theatre  to  show  him 


78  Union   Square  Jim 

where  the  unfortunate  animal  lay.  He  struck  a 
match  and  looked.  There  lay  the  poor  fellow  quite 
motionless.  His  form  was  stretched  between  two 
rows  of  seats ;  but  whether  or  not  he  had  fallen 
against  their  hard  frames,  George  was  unable  to  tell. 
He  lifted  the  limp  body  and  hurried  with  it  to  his 
room.  There  were  no  signs  of  life.  He  felt  of  the 
body  carefully,  but  could  not  tell  whether  any  bones 
were  broken.  He  bathed  Jim's  head  in  alcohol  and 
laid  him  gently  upon  a  cushioned  chair.  Pretty  soon 
Frank  came  in  and  asked  what  was  the  matter. 
George  explained  as  well  as  he  could,  though  his 
voice  was  shaken  as  he  spoke. 

1  Poor  Jim  ! '  said  he.  '  He  's  done  for,  I  guess. 
He  was  a  good  mascot  for  me,  but  he  could  n't  be 
one  for  himself.  Well,'  he  continued,  wiping  his 
eyes,  '  we  've  all  got  to  go  sometime,  and  I  hope 
we  '11  all  be  as  well  prepared  as  he  was.  I  never 
knew  him  to  do  a  mean  or  a  wicked  thing.  He 's 
been  with  me  ever  since  he  was  born,  and  his  record 
is  a  white  one.  I  've  been  mad  lots  of  times ;  I  've 
sworn  and  been  uneasy  when  things  did  n't  go  to 
suit  me.  But  I  '11  say  this :  I  never  saw  Jim  mad 


Union   Square  Jim  79 

or  ugly  or  cross.  I  'm  no  moralizer,  and  I  do  n't 
know  any  too  much  about  religion ;  but  I  know 
facts  when  I  see  them,  and  I  know  that  no  man  or 
woman  who  's  ever  been  around  this  theatre  has  ever 
been  so  good  as  poor  Jim.  I  do  n't  say  it 's  morality  : 
I  do  n't  call  it  character,  but  I  do  know  it's  goodness. 
It  makes  no  difference  how  it  got  there,  it 's  there ; 
and  if  one-half  the  men  and  women  were  anywhere 
near  as  good  as  Jim,  this  would  be  a  pretty  good 
world.  Poor  Jim  !  I  know  I  'm  a  good  deal  better 
man  for  his  influence.  I  ain't  ashamed  to  own  that 
his  life  has  been  a  good  example  for  me.  Many  's 
the  time  I  've  been  tempted  to  swear,  and  Jim's 
innocent  blue  eyes  would  come  up  before  me  and 
choke  the  words  on  my  lips.  One  day  I  remember 
a  drunken  stage  hand  did  something  that  made  me 
mad.  I  raised  a  monkey-wrench  I  happened  to  have 
in  my  hand,  and  I  believe  I  should  have  struck  him 
over  the  head ;  but  just  then  I  saw  Jim  sitting  over 
in  the  corner,  and  looking  at  me  so  gently  and 
reproachfully  that  my  hand  just  fell  at  my  side.  Oh, 
there  's  many  things  Jim  has  done  for  me,  and 
there  's  lots  of  things  he  's  done  for  other  folks  around 


80  Union   Square  Jim 

this  theatre.  I  remember  that  little  girl  in  the  ballet 
who  looked  so  sad  and  friendless  when  she  was 
behind  the  scenes,  though  she  smiled  like  an  angel 
when  she  was  before  the  lights.  I  saw  her  reading 
lots  of  little  notes,  and  then  stand  thinking,  thinking. 
I  remember  how  Jim  came  and  rubbed  against  her 
silk-covered  ankles,  and  how  she  picked  him  up  and 
began  to  pet  him.  I  noticed  how  still  he  was,  and 
how  she  held  him  all  the  time  between  the  scenes. 
Once  I  saw  her  crying  very  quietly,  and  then  I  saw 
her  bury  her  face  in  Jim's  soft  fur  and  hold  it  there 
until  she  was  called  on  the  stage  again.  That  night, 
when  she  came  out  of  the  dressing-room  with  her 
plain  dress  and  worn  cloak,  her  face  looked  very 
determined,  and  I  saw  her  march  up  to  where  Jim 
stood.  She  picked  him  up,  and  her  face  grew  tender 
in  a  minute.  She  hugged  him,  and  then  put  him 
down  and  ran  out  of  the  stage  entrance  as  fast  as 
her  feet  would  carry  her.  I  knew  none  of  them 
dudes  would  catch  her,  and  they  did  n't.  One  night, 
just  before  her  engagement  was  over,  she  came  and 
said  to  me :  "  You  do  n't  know  how  much  I  owe 
this  cat."  "  How  so  ?  "  says  I.  "  I  can  't  explain," 


Union   Square  Jim  81 

says  she,  "  but  when  a  poor  girl  has  n't  any  father, 
or  brothers,  or  sisters,  or  friends,  and  is  poor,  and 
when  she  knows  that  all  those  who  pretend  to  be 
friends  only  do  so  because  they  have  something  in 
view,  it 's  everything  to  find  a  real  true,  honest,  and 
noble  friend  that  likes  you  for  yourself  alone,  just 
as  I  know  Jim  does  me."  I  understood  her  then. 
'Then  there  was  old  Mary,  the  sweeping  woman. 
What  a  fancy  she  took  to  Jim !  But  he  never  would 
go  very  near  her.  This  seemed  to  puzzle  the  poor- 
old  woman,  and  I  've  seen  her  try  all  kinds  of  things 
to  make  friends  with  him.  I  remember  she  would 
bring  a  piece  of  broiled  fish  wrapped  up  in  a  news- 
paper, when  she  found  out  how  much  Jim  liked 
fish,  and  he  would  eat  it  all  right,  but  would  never 
stay  near  her.  One  day  I  saw  her  sitting  and  think- 
ing all  alone  by  herself.  I  wondered  what  she  was 
puzzling  over.  Finally  I  saw  her  slap  her  knee  and 
say,  "That's  it.  It's  me  breath  the  cat  don't  like. 
Well,  I  don't  blame  him,  that  I  don't."  In  a  few 
days  I  noticed  her  face  did  n't  seem  so  red,  and  in 
a  few  more  days  it  had  a  clear  healthy  color.  Then 
I  saw  she  had  on  a  nice  clean  apron,  though  she 

6 


82  Union   Square  Jim 

never  wore  one  before.  And  in  a  few  days  I  saw 
Jim  sitting  in  her  lap,  his  eyes  partly  closed,  happy 
and  contented ;  and  such  a  smile  of  satisfaction  as 
Mary  had  on  her  face  it  would  be  hard  to  find 
again.  Yes,  Jim  cured  her  of  the  gin  habit,  and  I 
know  it.  Somehow  I  do  n't  see  why  such  hard  luck 
should  come  to  so  good  a  fellow.  If  it  had  been 
one  of  these  low,  cruel  chaps,  like  Shifty,  who 
started  to  kick  you  once,  but  caught  my  eye  in  time, 
it  would  be  nothing  but  right ;  but  here  you  are 
laid  out,  —  you  who  never  did  a  bad  thing  in  all 
your  life.' 

Just  then  Jim  opened  his  eyes.  There  was  a 
lack  of  lustre  in  them,  but  he  recognized  George. 

'  Poor  old  Jim  !  how  is  it,  old  fellow  ? '  George 
said  ;  but  Jim  closed  his  eyes  again  and  relapsed 
into  unconsciousness. 

It  was  two  weeks  before  Jim  recovered,  and 
when  he  did  there  were  no  traces  of  the  terrible 
plunge  which  he  had  taken. 

But  a  sad  day  came  to  the  Union  Square.  One 
fatal  noon  the  theatre  took  fire.  What  it  was  that 
caused  it,  no  one  could  tell ;  but  the  smoke  rolled 


Union   Square  Jim  83 

out  in  great  volumes,  and  the  place  seemed  doomed. 
The  firemen  rushed  into  the  auditorium,  and  while 
in  the  gallery  a  portion  of  the  structure  fell,  carrying 
several  of  the  brave  men  down  with  it.  Water  was 
poured  in,  and  finally  the  flames  were  under  control. 
But  still  the  deluge  went  on,  completing  the  ruin 
the  flames  had  begun.  Expensive  dresses  and  ward- 
robes were  destroyed ;  the  beautiful  interior  was  a 
wreck ;  the  two  destructive  elements  had  done  their 
work. 

1  Has  anyone  seen  Jim  ? ' 

This  was  the  inquiry  of  the  night  watchman,  as 
he  came  hurriedly  on  the  scene.  The  faces  of  all 
looked  blank.  There  was  a  firm  belief  in  the  theatre 
that  Jim  was  a  mascot,  and  that  ill-luck  could  hardly 
come  if  he  were  alive. 

*•  Who  will  go  with  me  to  find  him  ? '  shouted 
George. 

'  I  will,'  said  the  foreman  of  the  engine  company 
on  duty. 

Down  through  the  dim  corridors,  where  a  lantern 
gave  only  a  ghastly  light,  the  two  men  went.  The 
dressing-room  door  was  finally  reached,  but  it  was 


84  Union   Square  Jim 

closed.  A  few  vigorous  blows  opened  it,  and  the 
water  was  found  to  be  as  high  in  the  room  as  outside. 
At  first  Jim  was  invisible ;  but  at  length  he  was  dis- 
covered, perched  upon  a  bracket,  and  very  disconso- 
late. George  *gave  a  great  shout,  seized  his  pet,  and 
hurried  back.  An  anxious  crowd  was  awaiting  him  ; 
and  when  he  appeared  triumphantly  bearing  Jim  in 
his  arms,  a  shout  arose  that  drowned  even  the  noise 
of  the  fire. 

The  terrible  experience  through  which  he  passed 
taught  Jim  what  fire  was.  The  engines  never  went 
thundering  by  the  theatre,  on  the  way  to  some  con- 
flagration, without  arousing  him  thoroughly.  Any 
sudden  flaming  of  a  gas-jet  always  caught  his  atten- 
tion. He  once  sprang  at  a  basin  of  red  fire  that 
was  being  ignited  in  the  wings.  In  fact,  Jim  became 
a  veritable  fireman.  This  greatly  amused  George, 
and  all  others  about  the  theatre.  When  nothing 
better  was  on  hand,  they  would  coax  Jim  into  some 
entrance  which  was  closed  during  the  day  and  light 
a  fuse  in  his  presence.  He  would  gravely  watch  the 
match,  start  at  sight  of  the  hissing  flame  running 
along  the  floor,  and  then  leap  frantically  after  it. 


Union   Square  Jim  85 

So  quick  and  vigorous  were  his  movements  that  he 
usually  extinguished  the  flames  before  they  had 
burned  to  the  end  of  the  fuse,  and  he  always  did  it 
without  so  much  as  singeing  his  soft  coat. 

4  And  so  Jim  has  turned  fireman,  has  he  ?  ' 
laughed  the  genial  manager.  '  Well,  I  suppose  we 
might  as  well  discharge  our  regular  firemen  now.' 

Viewed  in  the  light  of  subsequent  events,  this 
seemed  almost  prophetic. 

It  was  not  easy  for  Jim  to  become  habituated 
to  the  new  theatre.  It  lacked  that  dinginess  and 
those  odors  to  which  he  had  long  been  used.  He 
was  provided  with  a  fine  dressing-room,  but  it  did 
not  seem  like  home.  As  a  result,  he  wandered 
about  the  house  still  more.  A  popular  actress  was 
just  then  at  the  theatre,  and  a  mutual -admiration 
society  seemed  to  be  organized  between  the  lady  and 
the  large  and  faithful  cat. 

From  the  early  days  of  history,  special  magnetic 
or  psychic  influences  have  been  assigned  to  cats. 
They  have  been  called  the  companions  of  witches. 
Special  powers  have  been  located  in  their  bodies.  A 
cat's  blood  has  been  part  of  nearly  every  ancient 


86  Union   Square  Jim 

fetish.  Rubbing  the  back  of  a  cat  is  a  familiar  way 
of  generating  electricity.  Cats  have  been  said  to 
possess  nine  lives.  But  whether  there  is  even  a 
foundation  of  truth  in  all  these  theories,  it  is  certain 
that  a  great,  almost  a  mysterious,  friendship  arose 
between  Miss  Blank,  the  actress,  and  Jim.  The 
luxurious  fellow  would  lie  curled  up  on  her  dressing 
table,  lazily  watching  her  various  movements  from 
the  corners  of  his  half-open  eyes.  This  seemed  to 
please  her. 

c  Do  you  think  I  shall  make  a  "  hit "  to-night, 
Jim  ? '  she  would  inquire,  looking  into  the  depths  of 
his  large  eyes  for  a  reply.  Whatever  that  reply  may 
have  been,  it  certainly  seemed  to  satisfy  the  lady,  for 
she  would  go  on  the  stage  with  a  brighter  smile  and 
more  confidence  than  she  possessed  before. 

Jim  usually  accompanied  her  to  the  wings,  but 
he  was  too  well  bred  to  venture  outside  that  limit. 
Once  in  his  earlier  days  he  had  shown  himself  to 
the  public,  and  the  effect  had  been  both  startling  and 
ludicrous.  A  would-be  tragedian  had  rented  the 
theatre  for  a  limited  term,  with  the  hope  that  his 
metropolitan  appearance  would  assist  him  in  the 


Hurte  i 
n/iw/s 


\ir  way 

x.id     tO 

en  a 

. 
ies,  it  is  certain 

,    friendship   arose 

:id    Jim. 

,:ied  up  on  her  dressing 

,»u>    movements   from 

This  seemed  to 


"  Do  vou  think  I  shall  make  A  l  hit '  to-night,  ji 
DRAWING  BY  J.  CARTER  BKARD. 


limit. 

c   had  shown   himself  to 

d  been  both  startling  and 

had    rented    the 

the  hope  that  his 

him    in    the 


Union  Square  Jim  87 

provinces.  His  failure  was  a  fixed  fact,  and  the 
result  caused  him  to  seek  inspiration  where  far  too 
many  others  seek  it.  He  had  been  ranting  through 
the  part  of  Macbeth  in  a  dazed  way,  when,  turning 
with  the  lines,  '  Is  this  a  dagger  I  see  before  me  ? ' 
he  was  confronted  by  the  calm  gaze  of  Jim,  who 
had  quietly  walked  out  upon  the  stage.  At  first  he 
thought  the  liquor  was  having  a  tragic  effect,  and 
his  tongue  refused  to  move.  The  effect  upon  the 
audience,  however,  was  otherwise ;  and  the  tragedy 
became  a  roaring  comedy. 

The  season  of  Miss  Blank's  engagement  was 
drawing  to  a  close.  Jim  seemed  to  realize  this,  and 
that  good  friends  must  soon  part.  He  was  seldom 
away  from  the  actress  when  she  was  in  the  theatre, 
and  he  often  tried  in  many  ways  to  anticipate  her 
wishes.  Her  slippers  were  always  in  place  beside 
her  chair,  no  matter  where  the  maid  might  have  left 
them.  Jim  was  a  true  and  attentive  friend. 

Only  two  more  nights  remained  of  the  season, 
and  the  last  act  was  called.  Miss  Blank  left  her 
dressing-room,  and  went  toward  the  wings,  closely 
followed  by  Jim.  The  good-natured  fellow  seemed 


88  Union   Square  Jim 

to  love  to  stand  at  the  entrances  and  see  the  actions 
of  his  friend  upon  the  stage.  During  the  entire 
act  Jim  lay  beside  the  prompter's  box  watching  Miss 
Blank's  every  movement.  Laughter,  tears,  pleadings, 
and  denunciations  did  not  affect  him,  for  did  he  not 
know  it  was  '  all  in  the  play  '  ?  The  climax  of  the 
act  and  of  the  play  was  reached,  and  the  first  bell  for 
the  falling  curtain  rung.  Miss  Blank  swept  majestic- 
ally before  the  footlights,  emphasizing  by  every  move- 
ment her  effect  upon  the  audience.  As  she  did  so, 
the  delicate  lace  of  her  train  touched  one  of  the  gas 
jets.  The  thin-  tissue  blazed  up  quickly  and  the  flame 
ran  along  the  bottom  of  the  skirt.  So  absorbed  were 
actors  and  audience  with  the  play  that  the  accident 
was  not  discovered,  but  the  quick  eyes  of  Jim  saw 
the  first  tiny  flame.  In  spite  of  his  training,  forgetful 
of  everything  at  the  sight  of  the  fire,  he  sprang  upon 
the  stage  and  pounced  down  upon  the  creeping  fire 
as  he  would  upon  a  mouse.  Right  and  left  flew  his 
nimble  paws.  A  tongue  of  flame  that  had  fastened 
upon  a  silk  ruffle  was  extinguished  by  one  sweep  of 
his  little  body.  It  singed  the  hair  upon  the  poor 
fellow's  sides,  but  he  never  flinched  for  a  second. 


Union   Square  Jim  89 

He  heard  the  frightened  voice  of  his  mistress,  the 
screams  of  the  audience,  and  saw  above  his  head  the 
heavy  pole  of  the  roller-curtain  swiftly  descending ; 
but  never  for  an  instant  did  he  stop  or  turn  from 
his  duty.  A  chorus  of  voices  rang  in  his  ears.  A 
blaze  of  light  flashed  before  his  eyes.  A  crushing 
load  fell  upon  his  prostrate  body,  and  then  all  was 
still. 

The  stillness  was  brief,  and  when  poor  Jim 
opened  his  eyes  the  scene  was  such  as  the  stage  has 
seldom  witnessed.  Upon  the  table  of  the  gorgeous 
stage  parlor  lay  the  singed  and  mangled  body  of  the 
faithful  cat.  Above  him,  her  eyes  overflowing  with 
tears,  bent  Miss  Blank.  Grouped  about  were  the 
entire  company,  their  painted  faces  drawn  with  gen- 
uine sympathy.  George,  Frank,  and  all  the  stage 
hands  stood  in  solemn  silence,  every  now  and  then 
drawing  their  hands  across  their  faces.  A  call-boy 
had  brought  a  physician.  He  came  and  gravely 
examined  the  quiet  creature  there  before  him.  Some 
prominent  people  who  had  occupied  a  box  came 
behind  the  curtain  and  stood  watching  the  scene  with 
intense  interest.  The  doctor  shook  his  head. 


90  Union   Square  Jim 

*  Fracture  of  the  spine,'  he  said,  '  and  his  nine 
lives  will  not  save  him.' 

Miss  Blank  could  contain  herself  no  longer. 
She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  sobbed  convul- 
sively. Suddenly  a  hush  came  over  the  group,  while, 
clear  and  distinct,  the  purrings  of  the  gentle  creature 
were  heard,  as  if  accidents  and  death  were  things 
unknown,  and  friendship  alone  was  immortal.  Jim 
lifted  his  poor  head  and  sought  to  lick  Miss  Blank's 
hand,  but  it  fell  helplessly  upon  the  table.  He  tried 
to  acknowledge  her  kind  caresses,  but  his  failing 
strength  would  not  permit. 

And  there,  upon  the  stage,  a  tragedy  of  real  life 
and  death  was  enacted.  A  gentle  and  loving  spirit, 
that  had  endeared  itself  to  all,  was  extinguished,  and 
a  tender  emotion  was  left  in  every  heart  there 
present,  however  hardened  or  insincere.  A  nobler 
purpose  of  kindness  to  all  dependent  creatures  in- 
stinctively came  to  all.  But  outside  the  theatre,  in 
real  life,  car  drivers  were  tearing  their  horses'  tender 
mouths  with  brutal  harshness,  cabmen  were  swearing 
at  and  beating  the  faithful  creatures  upon  whom  they 


Union  Square  Jim  91 

depended  for  their  livelihood,  and  dogs,  cats,  and 
other  gentle  domestic  animals,  were  suffering  abuse, 
brutal  men  were  scolding,  cursing,  and  whipping  their 
helpless  wives  and  children,  while  all  about  was  a 
world  of  beauty,  and  above  a  God  of  love. 


MY  FRIEND  THE  ELEPHANT 


MY  FRIEND  THE  ELEPHANT. 


T  was  Saturday  afternoon 
in  London,  one  of  those 
beautiful  July  days  which 
the  climate  of  England 
renders  so  perfect.  If  any 
unoccupied  persons  failed 
to  take  advantage  of  the 
beauty  of  the  day  by  com- 
ing out  of  doors,  they 
must  have  been  invalids 
or  misanthropes.  The  parks  were  thronged,  the  Zo- 
ological Gardens  were  crowded,  and  the  beautiful  play- 
grounds adjoining  were  filled  with  merry  cricketers, 
athletes,  and  sightseers.  The  joyousness  of  the  day 
seemed  contagious,  and  I  found  myself  driving  toward 
the  suburbs  with  no  more  definite  purpose  than  to 
enjoy  fully  the  inspiring  air  and  the  pleasant  natural  sur- 
roundings. In  fact,  I  had  scarcely  realized  in  what  por- 
tion of  the  great  metropolis  I  was,  until,  looking  across 


96  My  Friend  the  Elephant 

a  broad  open  space,  I  saw  the  extensive  grounds  of 
the  Zoological  Garden. 

The  very  thing,  I  said  to  myself;  nothing  could 
be  more  pleasing  or  appropriate.  And  so  I  soon 
found  myself  within  the  enclosure,  and  surrounded, 
of  course,  by  animals  of  every  description,  including 
those  of  the  human  species.  What  a  sight  it  was  ! 
There  were  birds  of  all  sizes  and  varieties,  and  beasts 
from  the  jungles,  the  icebergs,  and  the  mountains. 
Indeed,  the  Oriental  collection  called  to  my  mind 
the  descriptions  of  the  days  of  Solomon,  with  the 
1  ivory,  and  apes,  and  peacocks.'  There  was  the 
usual  motley  throng  about  the  cage  of  the  mon- 
keys ;  the  sea-lions  came  in  for  their  full  share  of 
wonderment  and  admiration,  while  the  other  lions 
held  the  attention  of  an  awe-inspired  crowd  such  as 
invariably  gather  about  their  cage. 

It  was  while  viewing  these  familiar  but  interest- 
ing sights  that  I  heard  the  merry  shouts  of  children 
in  the  distance ;  and,  attracted  as  I  always  am  by 
such  music,  I  strolled  in  the  direction  from  which 
the  sounds  had  come.  Presently  I  came  upon  them. 
A  merry  rollicking  lot  of  children  were  riding  upon 


mt 


-1    by 

:  Arable 

:.'.•  ele- 

n.      He 


S   long 

FROM  PHOTOGRAPH  BY  UIXON,  LONDON. 
charge 

It,  and 

:,  how- 

uething 

ne  that 

,    that 

.en,   and 

phants  in  the 

horn   India 

i  ventured  to 

..»<xi  there  so  quietly  j 


My   Friend  the  Elephant  97 

the  back  of  a  monster  elephant,  who  was  apparently 
as  delighted  over  the  novel  sensation  as  he  was  proud 
in  his  responsibility.  I  watched  the  performance 
for  some  time ;  saw  the  little  band  descend  from  the 
elephant's  back,  and  their  places  quickly  filled  by 
other  eager  children  ;  while  all  the  time  the  elephant 
seemed  to  be  fully  conscious  of  his  duty  and  proud 
of  his  part  in  the  entertainment. 

After  watching  the  performance  for  a  considerable 
time,  I  ventured  to  approach  the  keeper  of  the  ele- 
phant and  enter  into  conversation  with  him.  He 
seemed  very  reticent,  and  I  could  see  that  his  long 
association  with  the  dumb  animal  he  had  in  charge 
had  produced  an  effect  upon  the  man  himself,  and 
upon  his  conversational  powers.  I  managed,  how- 
ever, to  draw  him  out  somewhat  and  learn  something 
about  the  animal  he  was  handling.  He  told  me  that 
he  and  the  elephant  were  the  best  of  friends  ;  that 
the  animal  was  good  natured,  loved  children,  and 
was  much  attached  to  several  other  elephants  in  the 
garden,  especially  to  a  diminutive  animal  from  India 
that  they  called  the  c  Baby  Elephant.'  I  ventured  to 
speak  to  the  huge  animal  who  stood  there  so  quietly; 


98  My  Friend  the  Elephant 

and  when  he  extended  his  trunk  toward  me  in  a 
friendly  manner,  I  looked  upon  it  as  a  recognition 
of  a  formal  introduction,  and  shook  it  quite  cordially. 
He  seemed  to  understand  my  action,  and  passed  the 
delicate  jelly-like  membrane  at  the  mouth  of  his 
trunk  over  my  hand,  as  if  trying  to  learn  more  defi- 
nitely what  sort  of  a  person  I  might  be.  I  was 
rather  interested  to  know  what  his  conclusions  were; 
but  he  did  not  make  them  known,  —  contenting 
himself  by  quietly  holding  my  hand  and  looking  at 
me  with  what  seemed  to  be  several  very  merry 
twinkles  in  his  eye. 

The  children  who  had  been  riding  upon  the  ele- 
phant were  mostly  sons  and  daughters  of  the  rich 
or  well-to-do ;  many  of  them  were  in  charge  of 
nurses  or  guardians,  while  others  were  accompanied 
by  their  parents,  who  paid  the  slight  fee  required 
for  the  ride.  Away  at  one  side,  however,  I  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  little  gathering  of  urchins  who,  by 
their  appearance,  I  could  readily  see  were  children 
of  the  poor.  They  were  watching  the  merry-making 
of  the  other  children  with  eager,  almost  hungry  eyes, 
as  they  might  have  gazed  into  a  pastry  cook's  window 


My   Friend  the  Elephant  99 

at  the  delicacies  they  could  not  hope  to  enjoy.  It 
occurred  to  me  that  it  might  not  be  a  bad  idea  to 
organize  a  little  excursion  party  out  of  this  group, 
and  give  them  a  ride  upon  the  elephant's  back.  I 
spoke  to  the  keeper  about  it,  and,  a  little  to  my  sur- 
prise, he  not  only  consented,  but  seemed  to  be  very 
glad  to  do  so.  I  wish  my  readers  could  have  seen 
the  expressions  upon  the  faces  of  the  children  when 
I  suggested  my  plan  to  them.  Their  eyes  dilated, 
smiles  came  over  their  faces,  and  it  did  not  require 
the  eager  words  they  uttered  to  show  me  that  my 
invitation  was  instantly  accepted.  And  what  a  jolly 
party  they  did  make  !  The  new  sensation  of  being 
away  up  in  the  air,  conveyed  by  the  huge  animal 
upon  whom  they  looked  with  awe,  made  their  cheeks 
flush  and  their  eyes  sparkle  with  pleasure  and  excite- 
ment. Poor  little  things,  how  they  did  enjoy  it ! 

But  what  attracted  my  attention  even  more  was 
the  fact  that  the  elephant  himself  seemed  to  under- 
stand the  little  party  perfectly,  and  seemed  especially 
glad  to  have  them  on  his  back.  I  walked  along 
beside  him  while  the  children  were  having  their  ride, 
and  he  wound  his  trunk  about  my  hand  in  a  par- 


ioo         My   Friend  the   Elephant 

ticularly  confidential  manner,  as  though  he  quite 
understood  that  I  was  responsible  for  the  jolly  little 
excursion,  and  highly  approved  of  the  enterprise.  In 
this  charming  manner  the  afternoon  wore  away,  and 
I  returned  to  the  city  pleased  and  refreshed  by  the 
little  outing. 

The  Zoological  Garden  had  a  special  attraction 
for  me  thereafter.  Whenever  I  had  leisure  for  an 
hour  or  two,  I  was  pretty  certain  to  drive  out  and 
have  a  little  visit  with  my  new  friend  the  elephant. 
I  usually  took  a  little  present,  in  the  form  of  some 
dainty  bit  of  food,  along  with  me  ;  and  I  was  always 
sure  of  a  good  welcome.  One  day  he  showed  me 
a  special  mark  of  confidence.  It  was  while  I  was 
walking  by  his  side  and  we  were  visiting  together  in 
the  manner  which  we  both  quite  understood,  that 
we  met  another  large  elephant,  also  engaged  in  the 
transportation  business.  My  huge  friend  stopped, 
and  the  other  elephant  also  paused  with  a  look  of 
inquiry  upon  her  face.  Quietly  but  swiftly  a  trunk 
was  extended,  which  seized  the  other  trunk  in  its 
grasp  and  carried  it  unerringly  to  my  hand.  Of 
course  I  acknowledged  the  salutation  cordially,  and 


My  Friend  the  Elephant         101 

could  see  that  the  big  fellow  was  very  much  pleased 
at  the  outcome  of  his  introduction.  I  felt  the  deli- 
cate tissues  of  the  trunk  of  my  new  acquaintance 
wandering  about  my  hand,  while  the  eyes  of  its  owner 
watched  me  most  intently.  And  so  my  circle  of 
friends  was  increased  by  one  more. 

But  the  time  drew  near  when  I  was  to  return  to 
America,  and  the  day  before  sailing  I  visited  the 
4  Zoo '  to  bid  my  two  huge  friends  good-bye.  I 
tried  to  make  them  understand  that  I  was  taking 
leave  of  them,  and  it  was  pleasant  to  me  to  think 
they  understood  and  regretted  my  departure. 

More  than  two  years  passed ;  and  while  I  had 
not  forgotten  the  strange  acquaintances  I  had  made 
in  London,  I  must  confess  that  thoughts  of  them 
very  rarely  entered  my  mind.  I  knew  that  elephants 
were  very  long-lived  creatures,  and  when  I  thought 
of  them  at  all  I  fancied  them  as  alive  and  well,  and 
attending  to  the  very  satisfactory  duties  in  which  I 
had  last  seen  them  engaged.  But  I  heard  nothing 
of  them.  One  day  in  looking  over  the  paper  I  saw 
the  announcement  that  Mr.  P.  T.  Barnum  had 
arranged  to  bring  '  the  largest  elephant  in  the  world ' 


io2         My  Friend  the  Elephant 

to  America  for  exhibition  purposes.  I  remember 
wondering  if  he  would  be  able  to  find  a  larger  speci- 
men than  my  friend  of  the  Zoological  Garden,  when, 
upon  reading  farther,  I  learned  that  this  was  the  very 
animal  he  had  purchased  and  proposed  bringing  to 
America.  Then  came  the  discussion  in  the  press 
about  the  'uprising  of  the  people  of  London '  against 
allowing  that  magnificent  elephant  to  leave  the  coun- 
try. Many  young  men  remembered  how  they  had 
ridden  upon  his  back  when  they  were  children,  and 
he  was  such  a  universal  favorite  that  the  excitement 
in  London  assumed  quite  extended  proportions.  Of 
course  Mr.  Barnum  fanned  this  flame  for  advertising 
purposes ;  and  it  finally  became  so  strong  that  an 
Act  of  Parliament  was  passed  prohibiting  any  vessel 
that  carried  passengers  from  transporting  large  ani- 
mals. How  Mr.  Barnum  evaded  this  by  chartering 
a  special  steamer,  and  how  he  succeeded  in  landing 
the  huge  creature  upon  American  shores,  are  matters 
of  history. 

I  was  at  the  dock  to  see  the  grand  old  fellow 
arrive,  and  to  welcome  him  to  a  strange  land.  I 
had  serious  doubts  as  to  whether  I  should  know  him 


My  Friend  the  Elephant          103 

by  sight  ;  and  it  never  for  a  moment  entered  my 
head  that  he  could  or  would  remember  or  recognize 
me.  Imagine  my  amazement,  therefore,  when,  in 
the  midst  of  all  the  excitement  of  landing  and  the 
strange  surroundings,  he  recognized  me  the  moment 
our  eyes  met.  That  same  wonderful  trunk  sought 
my  hand,  and  I  felt  the  same  cordial  pressure  he  had 
given  it  years  before  in  London.  I  was  decidedly 
pleased,  as  I  think  anyone  would  have  been  under 
the  circumstances.  It  seemed  very  natural  and  nice 
to  see  my  huge  friend  again,  and  quite  natural  to  see 
Scott  his  keeper,  and  to  find  also  that  the  l  Baby 
Elephant '  had  been  brought  along,  partly  for  exhibi- 
tion purposes  and  partly  to  keep  the  big  fellow 
company. 

I  hardly  need  to  recount  in  detail  his  career 
thereafter,  for  c  Jumbo '  was  under  the  focus  of 
thousands  of  eyes  every  day  during  the  remainder  of 
his  life.  How  well  he  behaved  himself  under  the 
trying  and  tiring  influences  of  an  exhibition  life,  forced 
to  travel  nights  and  be  exhibited  days,  jolted  over 
rough  roads  in  uneasy  cars  and  paraded  through  the 
streets  of  cities  to  be  gazed  at  by  the  people,  are 


104          My   Friend   the   Elephant 

matters  that  are  known  to  nearly  everybody.  I  saw 
him  occasionally,  when  chance  or  good  fortune  threw 
me  in  his  way,  and  many  pleasant  visits  were  the 
result.  Time  would  fail  me  for  telling  of  the  many 
clever  things  he  did.  He  revealed  not  only  intelli- 
gence of  a  high  order,  but  reasoning  powers  beyond 
those  possessed  by  many  men,  a  sturdy  and  honest 
character,  and  an  affectionate  disposition. 

I  recall  one  memorable  incident.  It  occurred 
in  Buffalo,  where  I  was  visiting.  The  afternoon 
performance  was  over.  Nearly  every  sightseer  had 
left  the  spacious  tent ;  but,  being  something  of  a 
privileged  character  through  my  well-known  acquaint- 
ance and  friendship  with  the  big  elephant,  I  strolled 
into  his  quarters  without  question.  He  was  calmly 
consuming  hay,  twisting  and  tossing  it  about  in  the 
most  abandoned  yet  graceful  manner.  He  ceased 
both  recreation  and  dinner  as  soon  as  I  appeared,  and 
we  were  having  the  pleasantest  possible  time  regard- 
less of  the  visitors  who  were  staring  at  us.  It  had 
long  been  my  custom  to  talk  to  him  as  I  would  to 
any  other  friend,  and  I  had  learned  to  understand  his 
responses  perfectly.  In  the  midst  of  our  conference 


My   Friend  the  Elephant         105 

there  was  a  disturbance.  I  paid  little  heed  to  it,  but 
the  screams  of  a  few  women  and  children  soon  com- 
pelled my  attention.  Then  I  saw  the  attendants 
rushing  excitedly  about,  while  a  wild  break  in  the 
ranks  of  the  visitors  convinced  me  that  something  out 
of  the  ordinary  had  occurred.  It  was  not  long  before 
I  fully  understood  the  cause  of  the  excitement.  Nero, 
the  largest  of  the  lions,  had  in  some  manner  escaped 
from  his  cage.  Ordinarily  his  recapture  would  have 
been  a  simple  matter ;  but  his  keeper  was  not  on  the 
spot,  and  the  frenzied  condition  of  the  other  guards, 
as  well  as  of  the  people,  excited  him,  and  caused  the 
kingly  power  in  his  blood,  which  had  slumbered  so 
long,  to  become  thoroughly  aroused.  Suddenly  he 
appeared  just  in  front  of  us,  his  ears  set  closely  to  his 
head,  his  eyes  flashing,  and  his  tail  lashing  furiously. 
I  was  so  fascinated  by  the  sight  that  I  failed,  at  first, 
to  see  the  object  upon  which  his  glaring  eyes  were 
fixed.  It  was  a  small  child.  Deserted  by  his  nurse, 
paralyzed  by  fear,  the  little  creature  stood  transfixed, 
unable  even  to  cry.  His  eyes  were  staring,  as  in  a 
vision,  into  the  glaring  orbs  of  the  huge  creature 
before  him.  His  little  hands  clutched  convulsively 


106          My   Friend   the   Elephant 

a  diminutive  flag  which  the  absconding  nurse  had 
evidently  given  him.  He  seemed  as  helpless  as  a 
bird  under  the  influence  of  the  charmed  eyes  of  the 
serpent.  It  was  a  supreme  moment.  Slowly  and 
stealthily,  the  lion  crept  on.  His  crimson  tongue, 
escaping  from  behind  the  white  teeth,  licked  his  red 
lips  as  if  in  anticipation  of  his  dreadful  feast.  His 
claws  were  unsheathed,  and  he  appeared  the  embodi- 
ment of  all  that  is  rapacious,  cruel,  horrible. 

I  confess  that  I  was  as  incapable  of  action  as  a 
child.  The  situation  had  come  so  suddenly,  so  ter- 
ribly, I  could  not  collect  my  faculties ;  and  yet  I 
realized  that  in  another  instant  a  tragedy,  too  horrible 
for  description,  would  be  enacted.  But  just  at  that 
moment,  something,  I  hardly  realized  what,  shot  out 
above  my  head  with  marvellous  quickness  and  force, 
and  the  next  instant  the  lion  was  rolling  upon  the 
ground  and  roaring  with  rage  and  pain.  In  a  second 
more,  I  saw  the  same  lithe  weapon  that  had  struck 
the  powerful  blow  wind,  with  the  gentleness  of  a 
woman's  caress,  about  the  body  of  the  child,  and  in 
another  instant  the  little  fellow  was  lifted  swiftly,  yet 
carefully,  and  deposited  safely  upon  the  broad  back 


His  crimson  ti> 
e  teeth,  licked  h 

idful   feast.      His 
id  he  appeared  the  embodi- 

• 

>  ter- 
'The  next  m>tam  ,„„,  UK-  ^oumi/ 

URAUIM.  in    \\ H.i    II.    ; 

>tanta  tr%ed\ , 

on,  would  be  enacted. 


In  a  second 

the  weapon  that  had  struck 

ul,  with   the  gentleness   of  a 

he  body  of  the  child,  and  in 

fellow  was  lifted  swiftly,  yet 

ly  upon  the  broad  back 


My   Friend  the   Elephant          107 

of  the  huge  and  victorious  elephant,  where  he  was 
easily  held  safe  from  all  harm.  While  the  lion  was 
doubly  enraged,  he  was  also  cowed ;  and  in  an  ex- 
ceedingly short  space  of  time  he  was  recaptured  and 
returned  to  his  cage.  It  would  be  hard  to  tell  who 
were  the  most  amazed  people  in  that  tent.  The 
keepers  were  distracted,  the  visitors  crazed  by  fear, 
while  the  child  and  myself  were  simply  incapable  of 
action.  But  there  was  one  creature  as  calm,  as  col- 
lected, as  clear-headed  as  any  mortal  man  has  ever 
been  under  any  trying  circumstance,  and  that  was 
my  old  and  doubly  dear  friend  Jumbo. 

I  must  pass  other  interesting  incidents  and  come 
to  a  tragic  and  never-to-be-forgotten  night  in  my 
life.  I  was  in  Hamilton,  Ontario ;  it  happened  to 
be  on  the  same  day  that  the  great  circus  arrived  in 
the  town.  The  day  had  been  spent  quietly,  and  I 
had  prepared  to  take  the  train  that  left  toward  mid- 
night. Suddenly  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  not 
seen  Jumbo,  and  that  I  would  have  an  opportunity 
to  do  so  at  his  car  which  was  in  the  railroad  near 
the  station.  So  I  drove  to  the  station  early,  secured 
my  tickets  and  baggage  checks,  and  then  strolled  out 


io8          My   Friend  the   Elephant 

into  the  yard.  The  apparent  confusion  common  to 
all  freight -yards  was  increased  by  the  extra  work 
incident  to  the  handling  of  the  circus  train.  Switch 
engines  were  running  to  and  fro,  clanging  their  bells 
and  whistling  piercingly.  The  swinging  lanterns  of 
the  switchmen,  the  rattling  of  car-wheels  over  the 
switches,  the  shouts  of  the  men  from  out  the  semi- 
darkness,  all  made  a  scene  of  wild  confusion  and 
fascination.  I  was  too  well  versed  in  such  matters 
to  walk  along  the  track,  and  so  chose  a  space  be- 
tween two  tracks,  which  was  in  places  very  narrow. 
Upon  reaching  the  train  I  learned  that  the  elephants 
had  not  yet  arrived.  One  of  the  men,  however, 
informed  me  they  would  be  there  very  shortly. 

1  To  which  entrance  will  they  come  ?  '  I  in- 
quired. 

«•  They  '11  have  to  come  down  the  tracks,'  he 
replied.  '  These  yards  are  shut  in  so,  they  can  't 
get  to  the  train  in  any  other  way.' 

'  But  is  not  that  a  dangerous  thing  to  do  ? '  I 
asked. 

The  man  gave  a  shrug  of  indifference  and  said  : 
4 1  suppose  so,  but  what  are  we  to  do  ?  The  railroad 


My  Friend  the  Elephant         109 

company  can 't  change  its  yards  to  please  a  circus. 
The  animals  will  have  to  measure  ties,  that 's  all.' 

I  realized  at  once  that  there  were  perils  in  that 
yard,  and,  shall  I  confess  it?  felt  an  instinctive  dread; 
why,  I  cannot  say,  and  have  never  since  been  able 
to  understand. 

I  started  down  between  the  tracks  in  the  only 
direction  by  which  the  animals  could  come,  thinking 
I  might  meet  them.  I  had  gone  perhaps  two  hun- 
dred yards,  when  I  saw  in  the  distance,  lighted  dimly 
by  lanterns,  the  huge  rolling  forms  of  the  on-coming 
elephants.  How  grand  they  looked  !  The  indis- 
tinct light  seemed  to  magnify  their  forms.  As  they 
approached  I  seemed  to  be  looking  up  at  the  far  out- 
line of  a  chain  of  mountains.  On  they  came,  Jumbo 
in  the  lead,  and  walking  with  that  majestic  swinging 
stride  which  always  characterized  him.  I  can  see 
him  now,  the  grand  fellow.  How  magnificent  he 
was  !  And  then  I  saw  that  he  was  guiding  the  baby 
elephant,  and  along  a  path  which  the  little  fellow 
did  not  seem  to  understand,  but  which  Jumbo  ap- 
peared to  know  thoroughly. 

I  was  so  absorbed  by   the  sight  that   I   failed  to 


no          My   Friend  the   Elephant 

hear  the  clanging  of  a  bell  over  to  the  left ;  but, 
suddenly  roused,  I  perceived  an  engine  that  was  bear- 
ing down  in  my  direction.  I  knew  it  would  not 
come  upon  me,  but,  following  with  my  eye  the 
course  of  the  switch,  I  saw  it  would  take  the 
track  on  which  the  elephants  were  walking.  I 
shouted  a  warning.  If  the  engineer  heard  me,  he 
gave  no  sign ;  but  Jumbo  clearly  heard  my  voice, 
and  I  could  see  that  he  recognized  me.  Turning 
his  head,  he  saw  the  coming  danger.  There,  upon 
the  track,  directly  before  him,  stood  the  baby  ele- 
phant. A  short  distance  up  the  track  was  the  re- 
morseless engine,  its  brazen  bell  clanging  angrily  and 
its  headlight  glaring  like  a  huge  evil  eye. 

If  I  should  live  to  extreme  old  age,  I  can  never 
forget  the  scene.  The  grand  old  animal  gave  one 
look  around  him,  and  then,  as  though  his  resolution 
was  taken  quickly,  thrust  the  baby  elephant  away 
from  all  danger,  and  stood  confronting  the  on-coming 
engine.  What  a  sight  it  was  !  There  stood  the 
highest  type  of  animate  power  defying  the  inanimate 
force  of  the  mighty  engine.  There  was  no  sign  of 
fear,  not  the  slightest  trace  of  flinching.  He  calmly 


My   Friend   the   Elephant          in 

waited,  confident  both  in  his  power  and  his  duty 
toward  the  weaker  member  of  his  race  which  he  was 
faithfully  protecting.  It  is  perhaps  because  I  realized 
so  fully  the  fearful  danger  of  poor  Jumbo,  that  I  re- 
member this  scene  so  distinctly. 

Just  as  the  engine  was  almost  upon  him,  Jumbo 
lowered  his  head  and  charged  with  all  the  power 
within  his  ponderous  body  upon  the  murderous  ma- 
chine. The  engine  seemed  to  shudder,  then  came 
to  a  sudden  stop.  The  sleepy  engineer,  roused 
by  the  shock,  had  reversed  the  lever  —  but,  alas! 
too  late.  The  impact  had  not  thrown  Jumbo  from 
the  track,  but  I  saw  him  reel,  and  knew  the  blow 
had  been  mortal.  In  another  instant  I  was  by  his 
side. 

4  My  dear  old  fellow,  are  you  hurt  ? '  1  exclaimed. 

I  saw  a  flash  of  recognition  and  intelligence  come 
into  his  eyes,  but  it  was  quickly  dimmed  by  the  blood 
that  trickled  down  his  forehead.  And  then  I  saw 
him  reel  again,  and  then,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
fall.  I  threw  myself  beside  him.  I  passed  my  hand 
over  his  huge  head,  and  felt  the  fracture  which  the 
cruel  blow  had  inflicted.  I  knew  there  was  no  hope, 


ii2         My  Friend  the  Elephant 

and  yet  I  tried  to  cheer  him.  There  he  lay  unflinch- 
ingly, his  eyes  fast  glazing  and  his  quivering  trunk 
passing  alternately  to  the  little  elephant,  to  Scott  his 
keeper,  and  myself.  He  was  breathing  hard,  but  not 
another  sound  escaped  his  lips.  The  baby  elephant 
seemed  dazed,  Scott  was  crying,  and  the  little  crowd 
about  the  prostrate  body  was  speechless  with  awe  and 
terror.  I  do  not  know  what  I  did.  I  only  remem- 
ber clasping  in  my  hands  that  marvellous  trunk 
which,  even  in  the  dying  hour,  seemed  instinct  with 
sentiment  and  affection.  Gently  it  responded  to  my 
frantic  pressure,  even  while  it  shivered  in  its  death 
agonies.  Fainter  and  fainter  grew  that  grasp,  and  I 
knew  the  life  within  was  passing  away  as  grandly  and 
gently  as  it  had  always  lived. 

Suddenly  the  majestic  head  was  raised,  the  closed 
eyes  opened  and  earnestly  gazed  about.  The  noble 
animal  looked  with  pity  at  Scott,  with  wonder  at  the 
gathering  crowd,  with  tenderness  at  the  baby,  and,  as 
I  sincerely  believe,  with  love  at  me.  My  streaming 
eyes  were  too  dim  to  see  clearly,  but  the  expression 
could  not  be  mistaken.  Slowly  the  head  lowered,  as 


My   Friend  the  Elephant         113 

if  weary  of  life ;  the  clasping  trunk  ceased  its  pres- 
sure upon  my  hand,  and  with  a  sigh  that  seemed 
almost  human  the  grand  spirit  had  departed.  And 
with  it  ended  one  of  the  most  sincere  and  charming 
friendships  of  my  life. 


SALLIE   RUSSELL 


SALLIE    RUSSELL. 


EED,  Missy  Helen,  de  bay 
mare  done  got  a  colt.' 

Sam's  eyes  sparkled  as 
he  said  this,  although  he 
was,  usually,  one  of  the 
most  stupid  of  his  race. 

By  the  average  young 
lady  of  to-day,  such  an  an- 
nouncement would  probably 
be  received  with  contempt 
or  indifference;  with  Helen  Beauford  —  a  Kentucky 
girl  born  and  bred  —  it  was  an  occasion  of  joy. 

'  Bring  me  my  hat  directly,  Mirandy,'  she  said. 
4 1  must  go  to  see  the  little  thing.' 

She  was  expecting  to  see  a  small  colt,  but  was 
wholly  unprepared  to  find  such  a  tiny  creature  as 
she  saw  in  the  paddock.  It  seemed  more  like  a 
shadow  than  a  reality.  When  it  attempted  to  stand, 
its  limbs  shook  so  that  the  effort  seemed  altogether 
premature  and  hopeless.  When  it  tried  to  walk, 


u8  Sallie  Russell 

after  a  few  sidelong  swayings,  the  attempt  usually 
ended  by  a  fall  to  earth.  The  anxious  mother 
appeared  to  realize  the  feebleness  of  her  offspring, 
and  plainly  showed  her  longings  for  its  safety  in  her 
large  earnest  eyes. 

The  sight  of  so  much  weakness  and  helplessness 
instantly  aroused  Helen's  sympathies,  and  she  resolved 
to  care  for  this  little  creature.  But  though,  in  com- 
mon with  all  Kentucky  girls,  Helen  was  a  lover  of 
horses  and  knew  much  about  their  management,  she 
found  the  task  of  caring  for  this  little  weakling  a 
difficult  one.  The  servants  on  the  place  were  kept 
busy  obeying  her  commands  ;  and  fresh  straw,  warm 
blankets,  and  hot  milk  were  in  brisk  demand.  All 
that  care  could  do  was  done ;  and  yet  it  seemed  at 
times  that  the  little  colt  could  not  live.  The  interest 
and  solicitude  displayed  by  the  mother,  while  these 
efforts  were  being  made,  were  most  touching.  She 
seemed  to  understand  the  gravity  of  the  occasion, 
and  that  kind  friends  were  doing  all  in  their  power ; 
but  she  never  for  a  moment  relaxed  her  attention. 
She  ate  but  little,  and  slept  only  occasionally.  All 
her  thoughts  were  plainly  settled  upon  her  colt. 


Sallie  Russell  119 

But  the  care  at  last  began  to  tell,  and  signs  of 
animation  and  even  playfulness  were  shown  by  the 
little  creature.  Its  strength  also  increased  ;  and  then 
it  began  unmistakably  to  grow.  And  how  it  grew  ! 
It  filled  out  the  lines  of  beauty,  showed  well-rounded 
muscles  under  its  velvet  coat,  and  Helen  soon  saw, 
instead  of  a  puny  colt,  a  bright  and  vigorous  filly. 

It  might  be  expected  that  a  young  animal  that 
had  just  awakened  to  the  joys  of  life  would  in  its 
wild  playfulness  forget  those  around  it.  But  it  was 
quite  otherwise  with  the  little  filly.  She  knew  Helen 
was  kind ;  and  however  wild  she  might  seem  at 
times,  when  life  throbbed  strongly  within  her,  she 
was  always  gentle  the  moment  Helen's  voice  was 
heard.  Petting  has  been  known  to  spoil  a  child, 
but  kindness  was  never  known  to  injure  a  horse. 
Indeed,  when  the  word  of  command  comes  in  strong 
tones  from  the  voice  that  has  been  kind,  it  is  all  the 
more  quickly  obeyed.  And  so  Helen  and  Sallie  grew 
together  and  became  companions  and  firm  friends. 
It  was  Helen  who  first  put  a  bit  in  Sallie's  tender 
mouth,  who  first  mounted  her,  who  took  her  through 
the  various  steps  until  she  became  one  of  the  finest 


izo  Sallie   Russell 

saddle-horses  in  the  region.  And  all  this  without  the 
least  harshness  or  unkindness,  but  in  a  way  that  made 
it  a  pleasure  for  both  concerned. 

But  a  bright  and  vivacious  young  lady  can  hardly 
be  expected  to  be  wholly  satisfied  with  the  love  of  a 
horse.  It  is  all  very  well  as  far  as  it  goes,  and  may 
be  a  source,  undoubtedly,  of  much  genuine  happi- 
ness, but  the  happiness  would  be  all  the  greater  for 
having  someone  to  share  it  with  her — some  agreeable 
young  man,  for  example.  And  the  young  man  came 
—  came  unexpectedly  and  romantically;  came  riding  a 
fine  horse  to  hounds;  came  limping  up  to  the  paddock 
after  putting  a  bullet  through  the  brain  of  his  noble 
animal  that  had  fallen  and  broken  a  leg  on  the  high 
stone  wall  just  back  of  the  meadow.  Southern  hospi- 
tality made  Helen  courteous;  something  she  could  not 
understand  made  her  strangely  shy.  Perhaps  it  was 
the  earnest  way  in  which  the  stranger  looked  at  her; 
perhaps  it  was  the  discovery  of  a  hitherto  unknown 
realm  in  her  nature.  The  liniments  applied  by  the 
stranger  appeared  to  help  him  wonderfully,  and  yet  he 
seemed  fearful  of  moving  too  much,  and  so  accepted 
an  invitation  to  rest  the  remainder  of  the  day.  And 


Sallie  Russell  121 

then  his  friends  returned  from  the  hunt,  and  took 
him  away  in  one  of  the  Beauford  carriages  loaned 
for  the  occasion,  which  Helen  very  well  knew  would 
be  returned  by  the  sufferer  in  person.  It  was  the 
old  story  with  a  new  cover,  and  a  very  interesting 
one  it  proved  to  Helen  Beauford  and  Ashley 
Hamilton. 

The  events  above  described  occurred  in  Ken- 
tucky during  the  years  1860  and  1861.  They  were 
of  absorbing  interest  to  those  who  were  taking  part 
in  them,  but  certain  events  of  a  national  character 
were  transpiring  which  were  of  far  greater  import- 
ance. War  has  no  respect  for  lovers ;  indeed,  it 
seems  to  take  a  fiendish  delight  in  troubling  them. 
Hamilton  was  brave,  and  an  ardent  patriot ;  Helen, 
too,  was  brave,  but  trembled  at  the  thought  of  her 
lover  going  to  the  war.  Meanwhile  Hamilton  had 
raised  a  company  of  cavalry,  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  it,  and  offered  his  services  to  the  Federal 
Government.  They  were  accepted.  During  the 
last  interview  between  Helen  and  Hamilton,  the 
brave  girl  tried  to  appear  calm  ;  but,  alas!  feminine 
tears  flowed  freely. 


122  Sallie   Russell 

1  There  is  one  thing  I  wish  you  to  do,  Ashley,' 
she  said,  between  her  sobs.  '  Take  Sallie  with  you. 
I  shall  miss  her,  I  know,  and  the  army  is  a  fearful 
place  for  a  creature  such  as  she  is ;  but  I  shall  feel 
that  you  are  safer  if  she  is  carrying  you.  Now,  dear, 
do  n't  refuse ;  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  the  sac- 
rifice.' 

And  so  Helen's  two  best  friends  left  her.  They 
were  both  inexperienced  in  the  rough  field  of  war, 
but  they  both  possessed  the  best  blood  in  the  state. 
It  was  game  blood  —  the  blood  that  enables  its  pos- 
sessor to  endure  hardships  uncomplainingly,  to  face 
disaster  and  possible  death  unflinchingly.  And  thus 
they  entered  together  upon  their  new  and  untried  life. 
It  is  a  terrible  life,  but  it  has  its  pleasant  features. 
Drills,  parades,  inspections,  occasional  scouting  expe- 
ditions, are  all  agreeable  to  young  and  vigorous  blood. 
But  after  that  came  days  of  hardship,  nights  of  lone- 
liness, hard  marches,  discouraging  reverses,  stubborn 
battles,  sickness  and  death  around,  and  misery  and 
desolation  on  every  hand. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  minor  battles  in  which 
Ashley  was  engaged  that  a  flying  ball  struck  Sallie 


Sallie  Russell  123 

in  the  fleshy  part  of  the  neck.  It  was  a  painful 
wound,  and  annoyed  her  exceedingly ;  but  she  seemed 
to  know  what  it  was,  and  submitted  quietly  to  the 
dressing  it  required.  However  attached  the  filly 
may  have  been  to  Ashley  before,  she  was  still  more 
devoted  to  him  now,  after  being  relieved  of  her  pain 
and  restored  again  to  health.  As  for  Ashley,  she 
proved  more  and  more  dear  to  him,  constantly  re- 
minding him  of  Helen,  and  furnishing  him  compan- 
ionship at  all  times.  Sallie  developed  and  improved 
finely  under  the  careful  training  which  Ashley  gave 
her,  growing  stronger  with  the  vigorous  exercise  she 
received  each  day.  And  yet  she  never  seemed  quite 
adapted  to  army  life.  Her  royal  blood  fitted  her 
more  for  speed  and  action  in  peace  than  for  the 
rough  work  of  war.  But  however  distasteful  army 
life  may  have  been,  she  never  flinched  and  never 
failed  to  do  the  best  in  her  power  whenever  Ashley 
called  on  her. 

One  night  orders  came  to  be  ready  at  daybreak  ; 
and  when  the  gray  light  of  the  morning  had  faded 
into  yellow,  a  battle  was  raging  in  all  its  fury. 

Poor  fellow  !  his  fate  came  at  last,  in  the  form 


124  Sallie   Russell 

of  a  heavy  murderous  bullet.  His  uplifted  arm  fell 
helplessly  by  his  side,  he  caught  frantically  at  the 
reins,  and  then  fell  over  the  side  of  the  mare  to  the 
ground.  The  bugle  could  not  have  checked  Sallie 
quicker  than  the  fall  of  her  master.  She  set  her 
forefeet  firmly  in  the  ground  and  stood  immovable  as 
a  rock  by  his  side.  Meanwhile  the  tide  of  the  furi- 
ous battle  had  swept  on,  carrying  with  it  friend  and 
foe  alike,  and  leaving  few  dead  or  wounded  near  the 
desolate  spot  where  Ashley  had  fallen,  unconscious 
and  almost  lifeless.  When  he  revived,  the  first  sight 
that  met  his  gaze  was  the  intelligent  face  of  his  horse 
looking  down  upon  him  with  an  anxious,  earnest, 
and  gentle  expression.  Human  friends  may  forget, 
foes  will  be  unpitying,  but  a  devoted  animal  is  stead- 
fast. Its  life  is  concentrated  upon  the  objects  of  its 
love ;  it  has  no  divided  interests,  no  counter-currents 
of  affection  to  draw  it  away. 

The  hot  Southern  sun  came  upon  the  field,  but 
no  ambulances  or  stretchers  appeared.  The  battle 
had  passed  to  other  regions,  carrying  with  it  all  camp 
followers  and  hospital  attendants.  A  tree  stood  a 
few  rods  away,  underneath  which  was  ample  shade. 


h  < i  •  • tr • 


*•  Then-  she  stood  through  that  hot  dav,  shielding  him  by 
her  shadow.' 

DRAU'lNf,    BV    MAX    F.    Kl.KPPKR. 


i«r«eu,  am-,  j 

»>.4-k»^        f,,. :•;-„,    .^       A^rf^t       ijli-       - 


•  i  hiiflfe.  / 1.  i 


Sallie  Russell  125 

It  might  as  well  have  been  in  Africa,  for  Ashley 
could  not  reach  it.  His  canteen  soon  gave  out,  and 
then  thirst,  little  less  than  that  of  Dante's  damned, 
came  upon  him.  He  vainly  tried  to  make  known  his 
want  to  Sallie.  She  looked  at  him  with  all  the  ear- 
nestness of  her  nature,  and  tried  hard  to  comprehend, 
but  could  not.  A  stream  flowed  a  short  distance 
away  ;  but  how  was  she,  who  in  her  trouble  forgot 
hunger  and  thirst  herself,  to  know  that  Ashley  was 
dying  for  water !  She  would  gladly  have  borne 
him  wherever  he  willed  ;  but  he  was  too  weak  to 
reach  the  nearest  stirrup,  or  even  cling  to  her  tail. 
And  so  there  she  stood  through  that  hot  day,  shield- 
ing him  by  her  shadow  from  the  intenseness  of  the 
sun,  and  never  once  offering  to  leave  him.  The 
night  came,  and  with  it  chilliness  and  dew.  Ashley 
had  reached  that  stage  where  things  around  him  were 
for  the  most  part  dim  and  uncertain.  Occasionally 
consciousness  would  return,  bringing  with  it  a  reali- 
zation of  his  terrible  anguish ;  and  then  merciful 
oblivion  would  come  again. 

When  the  morning  dawned,  and  a  party  of  the 
enemy's    scouts,  hurrying   across   the   country,  came 


126  Sallie   Russell 

upon  the  spot,  they  found  a  beautiful  Kentucky  filly 
standing  over  an  unconscious  soldier.  The  pair 
seemed  to  these  scouts  scarcely  worth  capturing. 
The  wounded  officer  was  a  care,,  and  the  filly  was 
not  needed ;  they  had  enough  saddle-horses,  although 
they  were  short  of  animals  for  transporting  their  cap- 
tured supplies.  After  going  a  few  miles,  an  ambu- 
lance was  overtaken  ;  but  it  was  already  loaded  with 
wounded.  Then  another  one  was  sighted ;  but  it 
too  was  unable  to  receive  the  unconscious  '  Yankee ' 
officer.  A  field  hospital,  located  in  a  barn,  was 
presently  reached,  where  the  wounded  man  was 
turned  over  to  the  surgeon  in  charge.  The  faithful 
Sallie  started  to  follow  her  master  into  the  barn.  A 
rough  soldier  seized  her  bit,  and  gave  it  so  sudden 
and  violent  a  jerk  as  to  set  her  back  upon  her 
haunches  and  cause  her  to  throw  her  head  high  into 
the  air.  It  was  the  first  rough  treatment  she  had 
ever  received,  and  it  came  as  a  sudden  revelation  that 
there  was  such  a  thing  as  evil  in  the  world.  She 
involuntarily  shrank  from  the  soldier,  who  had  given 
her  sensitive  system  such  a  shock,  and  received  a 
terrible  kick  in  the  side  from  a  heavy  cavalry  boot 


Sallie  Russell  127 

as  a  reward.  Every  nerve  in  her  body  seemed 
touched  by  electric  fire.  She  trembled  so  violently 
that  even  the  accoutrements  of  the  saddle  jingled. 
Her  nostrils  were  dilated,  and  her  breath  came  pant- 
ingly,  but  a  single  thought  of  revenge  apparently 
never  entered  her  mind.  She  was  the  same  gentle 
high-bred  creature  that  God  had  made  her ;  and  how- 
ever Satanic  mankind  might  be  around  her,  she  was 
true  to  her  gentle  nature.  Gradually  the  trembling 
ceased,  her  surprise  and  indignation  passed  away,  and 
she  submitted  quietly  to  the  demands  made  upon  her. 

'  She 's  no  good,'  exclaimed  the  man  who  had 
exhausted  himself  with  kicking  her.  '  I  do  n't  risk 
my  life  with  no  such  brute  as  that.  The  best  thing 
we  can  do  is  to  turn  her  over  to  the  commissary 
department.  They  need  hosses,  and  we  do  n't. 
They  '11  take  the  devil  out  of  her  fast  enough.'  And 
without  further  discussion  Sally  was  led  away  to 
where  the  long  line  of  army  wagons  was  moving 
along  the  highway. 

Sallie  had  drawn  a  light  break-cart  in  her  Ken- 
tucky home,  and  had  often  been  driven  singly  to  a 
light  wagon  ;  but  no  collar  had  ever  encircled  her 


n8  Sallie   Russell 

neck,  nor  had  she  ever  been  driven  double.  A  mule, 
attached  to  one  of  the  wagons,  had  just  dropped  in 
its  tracks  from  overwork  and  underfeed,  and  the 
wagon  was  blockading  the  entire  train.  The  harness 
was  hastily  taken  from  the  fallen  mule  and  clumsily 
fitted  to  Sallie,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more,  with  a 
crack  of  the  whip  and  a  volley  of  oaths,  Sallie,  the 
gentle,  the  high-born,  was  pressing  the  soft  muscles 
of  her  tender  neck  against  the  rough  sides  of  an  army 
collar  and  exerting  her  strength  to  pull  an  overloaded 
army  wagon  by  the  side  of  a  weary  and  ill-tempered 
mule. 

1  Man's  inhumanity  to  man  makes  countless  thou- 
sands mourn,'  is  perhaps  not  so  true  to-day  as  when 
penned  by  the  Scottish  bard  ;  but  man's  inhumanity 
to  animals  seems  greater  than  at  that  earlier  period. 
In  former  days  men  were  more  dependent  upon  the 
animals  about  them.  Horses  were  practically  the 
only  means  of  conveyance.  The  dog  aided  in  secur- 
ing game,  on  which  life  depended.  Now,  modern 
invention  has  superseded  the  horse,  and  game  is  only 
a  luxurv.  The  result  has  been  to  dissolve  the  de- 
pendent relation  and  consequent  sympathy  which 


Sallie  Russell  129 

formerly  existed,  and  make  men  more  cold-blooded, 
if  possible,  than  ever  before.  Fortunately,  the  law 
has  come  in  and  demanded  that  Mercy,  which  should 
be  a  pleasure,  shall  become  a  duty ;  but  to  be  thus 
forced  has  seemed  only  to  harden  many  men's  hearts. 
The  cruelty  they  fear  to  exercise  in  public  is  intensi- 
fied in  private,  and  the  woes  of  abused  animals  rise 
like  a  constant  cloud  before  the  Almighty,  through 
which  human  prayers  for  mercy  can  be  but  faintly 
heard.  *  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall 
obtain  mercy,'  implies  that  those  who  are  not  merci- 
ful shall  not  have  mercy.  They  certainly  are  not 
entitled  to  it. 

The  wound  which  Ashley  Hamilton  sustained 
was  a  severe  one.  Thousands  of  men  during  the 
war  died  from  slighter  injuries ;  but  to  untainted 
blood  Ashley  had  added  a  temperate  life,  and  the  re- 
sult was  a  reserve  of  strength  and  vitality  that  now 
bore  him  through.  As  soon  as  he  was  able  to  be 
moved  he  was  taken  South  and  confined  in  one  of 
those  dreadful  prisons  which  have  been  so  often  and 
minutely  described.  Philosophy  and  patience  were 
his  only  comforters.  And  while  he  was  thus  spend- 


130  Sallie   Russell 

ing  his  life  in  prison,  Sally  was  wearing  hers  away 
before  a  heavy  wagon,  Helen  was  mourning  at 
home,  and  the  cruel  war  was  ruthlessly  continued. 

If  any  state  of  existence  can  be  hopelessly 
wretched,  it  must  be  that  of  an  army  mule.  Imag- 
ine, then,  the  state  of  a  gentle,  high-bred  horse,  de- 
signed by  nature  and  training  for  lightness  and  speed, 
attached  by  rough  harness  to  a  jolting  wagon,  and 
wasting  away  her  life  before  heavy  loads.  Sallie  had 
always  been  carefully  groomed  ;  now  she  was  never 
touched  with  a  brush.  Occasionally  the  teamster 
would  roughly  brush  away,  with  a  handful  of  straw, 
some  mud  which  had  been  accumulating  for  a  week 
or  more.  She  had  always  received  the  best  of  food; 
now  she  was  scantily  and  poorly  fed.  The  tender 
skin  on  her  neck  and  shoulders  was  worn  away  under 
the  strain  of  the  huge  collar,  and  the  raw  and  sensi- 
tive flesh  was  forced  to  bear  the  weight  of  the  heavily 
loaded  wagon.  Sallie  always  did  her  best  conscien- 
tiously, and  she  tried  hard  to  make  a  beast  of  burden 
of  herself.  But  she  could  not  pull  the  loads  as  well 
as  a  stolid  mule  that  had  always  been  used  to  such 
toil.  And  so  the  teamster  saluted  her  ears  with 


Sallie  Russell  131 

brutal  curses,  and  wound  the  heavy  thongs  of  his 
ox-hide  whip  about  her  slender  body,  every  blow  of 
which  left  ridges  easily  mistaken  for  her  gaunt  ribs. 
There  was  no  blacksmith  with  this  train  to  repair  or 
replace  her  shoes,  and  her  delicate  hoofs  were  soon 
worn  down  to  the  quick.  Every  step  she  took  jarred 
upon  her  sensitive  nerves  like  an  electric  shock ;  and 
yet  she  had  no  voice  with  which  to  complain,  and 
her  appeals  would  have  been  unheeded  if  she  had. 

There  is  one  phase  of  war  which  is  usually  over- 
looked. We  sympathize  with  the  men  who  sacrifice 
their  lives,  limbs,  or  health.  We  pity  the  widows 
and  orphans,  and  are  sorry  for  surviving  friends ;  but 
we  give  little  heed  to  the  devoted  animals  without 
which  war  would  be  impossible.  Some  of  these  ani- 
mals go  into  battle  and  charge  unflinchingly  upon  a 
wall  of  bayonets  ;  others  stand  quietly  by  the  heavy 
guns  they  have  hurried  into  position,  and  are  lacer- 
ated by  exploding  shells.  But  back  of  all  these  is  a 
toiling  mass  working  quietly  day  by  day  to  supply 
the  food  and  ammunition  for  all  these  heroes.  Many 
of  them  die  by  the  way ;  most  of  them  endure  suffer- 
ing, and  nearly  all  of  them  abuse,  but  they  are  silent 


132  Sallie   Russell 

martyrs,  unheeded  by  the  ones  they  serve  and  un- 
thought  of  by  even  patriots  and  philanthropists. 

The  new  and  terrible  work  which  Sallie  was 
forced  to  do  was  bad  enough,  but  it  was  not  the 
worst  of  her  troubles.  She  had  discovered  there  was 
such  a  thing  as  evil  in  the  world,  and  it  hurt  her 
sensitive  nature  terribly.  She  had  always  been 
treated  with  kindness,  and  felt  that  mankind  were 
her  friends.  Now  not  a  word  of  kindness  greeted 
her  ears ;  and  this  was  a  painful  revelation  to  her. 
A  highly-bred  horse  has  a  more  sensitive  nature  than 
many  men  and  women.  Thoroughbreds  have  been 
known  to  pine  away  and  die  from  the  loss  of  a 
friend.  A  harsh  word  has  turned  the  current  of 
many  a  horse's  nature  for  all  time.  The  sudden 
change  in  Sallie's  life,  the  loss  of  friends,  the  contact 
with  brutality, —  all  these  things  produced  a  nervous 
and  mental  strain  far  more  wearing  than  her  physical 
troubles.  Poor,  friendless,  unhappy  creature  ! 

At  roll-call  in  the  Confederate  prison  one  morn- 
ing a  Yankee  prisoner  was  missing.  No  one  knew 
how  he  had  escaped,  but  he  could  not  be  found 
within  the  grounds.  A  detachment  of  cavalry  was 


Sallie  Russell  133 

sent  out  to   scour  the  country,  but  returned  at  sun- 
down without  any  traces  of  the   fugitive. 

The  escaped  prisoner  was  Ashley.  He  was  free. 
He  had  recovered  his  health,  and  a  portion  of  his 
strength  also.  He  realized  fully  the  perils  about 
him,  but  he  was  brave  and  hopeful.  He  had  no 
money,  no  compass,  and  no  food.  Money  he  could 
not  have  used  were  it  in  his  possession.  The  North 
Star,  the  moss  upon  the  north  side  of  the  trees,  and 
the  flight  of  birds,  took  the  place  of  the  compass  ; 
and  his  conscience  did  not  smite  him  if  he  helped 
himself  to  enough  food  to  sustain  life.  And  so  he 
travelled  night  after  night,  while  during  the  day  he 
remained  under  cover.  He  kept  aloof  from  every- 
one, even  the  negroes.  He  knew  their  nature,  and 
felt  that  in  most  cases  he  would  be  safe  in  trusting 
them ;  but  he  preferred  to  take  no  risks,  and  so 
travelled  and  foraged  for  himself.  It  was  a  weary 
journey.  At  times  fatigue  discouraged  him,  and  then 
again  he  was  hopeful.  The  latter  feeling  usually 
came  after  he  had  enjoyed  a  good  meal  cooked  by 
himself  in  the  woods.  But  provisions  grew  scarce, 
and  at  last  he  was  obliged  to  go  several  days  almost 


134  Sallie   Russell 

without  food.  Then  his  strength  began  to  fail.  His 
will-power  was  strong,  but  what  can  determination 
do  when  one  is  faint  from  hunger  and  exhausted 
from  fatigue  ?  It  began  to  seem  to  him  that  life  in 
a  Southern  prison  was  better  than  starvation  alone 
in  the  woods ;  and  for  the  first  time  he  felt  the 
creeping  of  despair. 

The  forage  train  to  which  Sallie  belonged  was 
hurrying  away  from  a  battlefield.  It  had  been  a 
disastrous  field  for  the  Southern  cause,  and  the  poor 
animals  were  being  urged  to  the  limit  of  their  speed. 
The  road  lay  through  a  thick  wood,  with  sharp  turns 
at  every  few  rods,  and  deep  gullies  into  which  the 
wheels  sunk  almost  to  the  hubs.  The  wagon-master 
who  was  driving  Sallie  had  in  some  way  secured  a 
large  flask  of  liquor,  and  its  effect  was  to  intensify 
his  brutality.  But  in  spite  of  all  his  whipping  and 
cursings,  his  wagon  had  steadily  lagged  behind  until 
it  was  now  the  last  one  in  the  train.  The  other 
teams  could  be  seen  ahead  at  each  straight  stretch 
of  road,  but  at  every  turn  they  were  shut  off  from 
view.  Toward  sundown  they  came  to  a  fork  in  the 
road.  The  driver  was  too  dazed  to  distinguish  be- 


Sallie  Russell  135 

tween  the  two  roads,  and  with  a  crack  of  his  heavy 
whip  and  a  rough  oath  he  forced  Sallie  and  her  mate 
upon  the  road  to  the  left.  After  going  about  half  a 
mile  an  opening  among  the  trees  was  seen,  and 
presently  the  road  led  out  upon  a  wide  marsh  that 
stretched  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  A  sober  man 
would  have  realized  at  once  that  he  had  lost  his  way ; 
but  the  fumes  of  the  liquor  in  the  driver's  brain 
caused  him  to  urge  his  team  blindly  onward.  At 
first  the  road  seemed  easier  than  the  one  through 
the  forest ;  but  soon  the  wheels  began  to  sink,  and 
a  thick  ooze  could  be  seen  coming  up  from  between 
the  stunted  bunch-grass.  Deeper  and  deeper  sank 
the  wheels  and  heavier  became  the  load.  The  driver, 
almost  unconscious  of  what  was  passing  around  him, 
would  occasionally  open  his  eyes  and  apply  the  whip 
with  all  the  power  of  his  drunken  condition.  At 
length  Sallie's  mate  fell  to  the  ground  completely  ex- 
hausted, and  in  doing  so  shifted  jhe  collar  on  Sallie's 
neck  so  she  could  not  lower  her  head.  The  driver 
scrambled  from  the  wagon  and  staggered  to  the  side 
of  the  fallen  animal.  He  stooped  to  reach  the  har- 
ness, and  in  doing  so  fell  headlong  by  the  side  of 


136  Sallie   Russell 

the' poor  creature.  Too  inebriated  to  rise,  he  lay  in 
a  heavy  stupor,  while  the  darkness  of  night,  combined 
with  the  thick  poisonous  vapors  of  the  marsh,  drew 
a  pitying  curtain  over  the  unhappy  scene. 

Sallie's  thin  body  had  been  covered  with  perspira- 
tion when  her  mate  fell  to  the  ground.  The  damp 
chill  of  the  coming  night  now  caused  her  to  tremble 
with  cold.  The  weight  of  the  harness  held  down 
by  the  fallen  animal  made  every  moment  an  agony ; 
and  yet  something  seemed  to  tell  her  that  if  she  once 
yielded  to  the  temptation  to  lie  down  she  would 
never  arise.  Then  came  the  pangs  cf  thirst  and 
hunger;  and  so  the  weary  and  starless  night  wore 
away.  Toward  morning  the  driver  awoke  from  his 
drunken  stupor.  He  had  been  lying  upon  the  wet 
ground,  and  had  sunk  into  the  miry  soil  until  a  small 
pool  of  slimy  water  had  collected  around  him.  The 
germs  of  fever  had  made  swift  progress  in  his  system, 
and  he  awoke  not  to  consciousness  but  to  delirium. 
And  then  what  ravings  !  He  cursed  his  horses,  each 
time  jarring  Sallie's  tender  nerves  and  increasing  the 
trembling  which  the  cold  had  first  caused.  All  the 
rest  of  the  night  he  groaned  and  raved  ;  and  when 


Sallie   Russell  137 

the  mists  had  cleared  away,  and  the  hot  sun  poured 
down  upon  his  unprotected  head,  he  begged  for  water 
to  relieve  his  burning  thirst.  What  a  death  was 
his,  there  in  the  lonely  swamp,  with  only  one  living 
creature  near  !  His  groans  and  cries  became  less  as 
his  strength  decreased,  until  a  convulsive  shudder 
ended  a  useless  life  and  left  his  form  lying  in  a  half- 
made  grave.  And  Sallie  was  left  alone.  Her  strength 
was  growing  less ;  her  trembling  knees  could  scarcely 
bear  the  weight  of  her  weakened  body.  She  was 
immovably  fixed  to  a  heavy  army  wagon,  while  the 
galling  harness  kept  her  head  from  reaching  the 
ground  where  muddy  water  and  poor  grass  might 
have  helped  stay  her  fast  departing  life.  Thus,  in 
agony,  two  scorching  days  and  chilling  nights  passed. 
The  second  day  was  drawing  to  a  close.  Away 
toward  the  right,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
stretched  a  vast  deserted  morass,  unbroken  by  even 
a  shrub.  A  mile  away  toward  the  left  was  the  line 
of  woods  through  which  they  had  come;  while  all 
around  was  desolation.  No  birds  came  to  this  for- 
saken spot,  and  God  Himself  seemed  to  have  deserted 
it.  An  oppressive  stillness  was  upon  the  air ;  a  hush 


138         .  Sallie   Russell 

as  of  coming  disaster.  Sallie  strained  her  bloodshot 
eyes  in  one  last  look  around  the  horizon.  There 
was  the  agony  of  despair  in  that  look.  The  quiver- 
ing nostrils,  the  erect  ears  vibrating  with  agony,  the 
open  mouth  and  parched  tongue,  all  denoted  the  last 
appeal  of  a  noble  but  dying  spirit.  Was  there  no 
help  ?  Do  both  God  and  man  desert  the  faithful  ? 
Sallie's  anxious  eyes  had  scanned  every  foot  of  the 
horizon.  There  was  no  hope.  She  turned  her  ap- 
pealing face  toward  the  woods,  and  detected  a  slight 
movement  along  its  edge.  Then  it  ceased.  Again 
it  appeared,  and  at  length,  cautiously,  as  if  fearful  of 
danger,  a  human  figure  advanced  toward  her.  Slowly 
but  nearer  it  came.  Would  it  prove  a  friend  to  help, 
or  an  enemy  to  abuse  ?  Some  instinct  within  told 
her  it  was  a  friend ;  and  summoning  all  her  remain- 
ing strength,  she  gave  a  long  and  joyous  whinny. 
Its  effect  upon  the  approaching  figure  was  wonderful. 
At  first  the  man  stopped,  and  then  broke  into  as 
rapid  a  run  as  his  evidently  weakened  limbs  would 
permit.  Sallie  watched  his  approach.  He  was  rag- 
ged, thin,  and  weak.  His  hair  and  beard  were  long; 
but  something  about  him  seemed  familiar  to  Sallie, 


Sallie  Russell  139 

and  joy  reigned  where  but  a  moment  before  despair 
had  been  supreme.  The  man  was  Ashley — a  fugi- 
tive, in  rags,  but  the  same  noble  fellow,  the  same 
generous  friend.  The  effect  upon  Ashley  was  no 
less  marked  than  upon  the  mare  ;  he  caressed  her, 
spoke  tenderly  to  her,  and  at  once  proceeded  to 
release  her  from  her  burdens.  Such  is  the  power  of 
friendship,  a  mystic  bond  existing  between  man  and 
the  silent  creatures  about  him  no  less  really  than 
between  man  and  man. 

The  transition  from  despair  to  joy  may  be  pleas- 
ing, but  it  is  always  something  of  a  strain.  Ashley 
understood  the  state  of  affairs  about  him  fully  ;  but 
he  was  too  weakened  to  accept  them  entirely.  He 
satisfied  his  hunger  from  the  stores  in  the  wagon, 
meanwhile  feeding  Sallie  from  the  same  source. 
Then  they  departed  together  for  the  woods,  although 
both  were  so  reduced  it  was  only  by  the  greatest 
effort  they  could  get  there.  A  quiet  sheltered  spot 
served  for  their  camp ;  and,  for  the  first  time  since 
their  separation,  both  felt  content.  And  that  same 
night,  in  a  quiet  home  far  away  in  the  Blue  Grass 
region  of  Kentucky,  a  maiden  mourned  for  two  lost 


140  Sallie   Russell 

friends,  one  of  whom  had  been  reported  in  the  returns 
of  battle  as  '  missing.' 

A  week  passed  over  the  heads  of  the  two  friends 
hidden  in  the  woods  of  Tennessee.  It  was  a  week 
spent  in  the  effort  to  recover  strength.  Fortunately, 
the  army  wagon  furnished  all  the  requirements  of 
food  and  shelter,  and  the  ingenuity  of  the  two  friends 
put  it  to  a  good  use.  Then  came  the  march  toward 
home.  It  was  a  weary  march,  but  a  hopeful  one. 
Sallie  seemed  to  understand  what  it  meant.  She  too 
had  been  captured,  had  passed  through  cruel  hard- 
ships, and  longed  for  home.  One  day,  while  fol- 
lowing an  obscure  trail  that  skirted  the  base  of  the 
mountains,  the  quick  -ears  of  the  filly  detected  com- 
ing footsteps.  So  great  was  the  sympathy  between 
the  friends  that  Ashley  at  once  knew  something  was 
approaching,  although  his  duller  senses  had  not  de- 
tected it.  He  quietly  withdrew  to  the  woods,  where 
the  thickness  of  the  leaves  would  conceal  him. 
Sallie  stood  immovable.  There  was  no  need  to  hold 
her  nostrils ;  she  would  not  whinny  or  make  the 
slightest  noise,  no  matter  what  might  appear.  At 


Sallie   Russell  141 

length  a  scouting  party  of  cavalry  came  riding  down 
the  trail.  They  were  apparently  not  looking  for 
anything,  and  rode  carelessly  by.  Ashley  began  to 
breathe  freer,  when  suddenly  the  loud  barking  of  a 
dog  was  heard.  One  of  the  party  had  his  dog  with 
him,  and  the  animal  had  caught  the  scent  of  Sallie's 
feet  where  they  had  turned  from  the  path.  Ashley 
at  once  realized  the  situation  and  the  danger.  He 
knew  the  animal  would  be  upon  them  in  a  moment, 
and  their  presence  would  probably  be  made  known. 
He  felt  the  sinkings  of  despair.  A  quick  and  cruel 
wish  came  to  his  mind.  Oh,  to  choke,  to  kill  that 
dog!  Then  suddenly,  like  a  flash,  came  the  thought, 
c  Why  not  subdue  him  by  kindness  ? '  As  the  dog 
came  nearer,  he  stopped  for  a  moment.  He  saw  a 
ragged  and  forlorn  man.  Should  he  seize  him  ? 
Before  he  could  decide,  a  soft,  low,  and  musical  voice 
spoke  kindly  to  him.  This  amazed  him  still  more. 
He  had  not  heard  a  kind  word  since  he  was  a  puppy, 
and  it  seemed  like  a  voice  from  another  world.  He 
listened ;  but  so  much  had  he  been  imposed  upon 
that  he  was  distrustful  and  eyed  with  suspicion  the 


142  Sallie   Russell 

ragged  man  who  was  speaking  such  kind  words. 
But  there  was  something  in  the  eyes  that  beamed  so 
kindly  from  under  the  slouched  hat,  in  the  voice  that 
spoke  so  gently  from  beneath  the  frowzled  whiskers, 
which  won  his  confidence ;  his  tail  began  to  wag, 
slowly  at  first,  but  faster  and  faster,  until  at  last  he 
came  and  stood  beside  the  man,  and  felt  the  gentle 
and  kindly  touch  of  his  hand  upon  his  head.  Such  is 
the  power  of  kindness.  Ashley  patted  the  dog  quietly 
for  a  few  moments,  and  then  gave  him  some  food 
from  the  scant  store  he  had  on  hand.  The  creature 
showed  his  gratitude  by  licking  his  hand.  Suddenly 
a  whistle  was  heard  in  the  distance,  and  the  dog 
started  and  listened.  The  whistle  was  repeated,  and 
the  animal  instinctively  started  to  answer  it.  But  a 
harsh  voice  rose  on  the  air,  and  the  poor  dog  turned 
back  with  a  wistful  look  in  his  earnest  eyes.  Ashley 
knew  what  it  meant.  He  believed  the  men  would 
not  look  far  for  their  lost  animal,  and  he  determined 
to  keep  him.  The  task  was  not  difficult,  and  so  the 
party  of  fugitives  was  increased  to  three. 

The  adventures  which  Ashley  and  his  companions 


Sallie  Russell  143 

encountered  during  the  remainder  of  their  journey 
were  few  in  number.  There  were  hardships,  priva- 
tions, and  perils.  But  one  morning  at  daybreak,  after 
a  night  of  travel,  the  white  walls  of  the  tents  in  a 
large  encampment  were  seen  far  down  the  valley. 
Ashley's  blood  moved  faster  as  he  gazed,  and  he 
could  not  repress  a  shout  of  joy  upon  seeing  the  stars 
and  stripes  flying  from  a  tall  staff  above  the  snowy 
tents.  It  meant  indeed  l  home  again.' 

Visitors  to  the  Blue  Grass  region  of  Kentucky 
often  remark  the  beauty  of  a  country  seat  in  one  of 
the  most  picturesque  locations  of  the  State.  The 
attractive  house,  the  neat  stables,  the  well-kept 
grounds,  all  indicate  the  presence  of  persons  of  refine- 
ment and  taste.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  be 
entertained  at  luncheon  in  this  home  on  a  certain 
day,  when  with  a  well-known  gentleman  of  Louis- 
ville we  were  travelling  by  wagon  and  incidentally 
viewing  fine  horses.  While  our  animals  were  being 
cared  for,  we  looked  through  the  stables.  An  espe- 
cially bright  and  intelligent  filly  caught  my  eye.  I 


144  Sallie   Russell 

liked  her  appearance,  and  she  did  not  object  in  the 
least  to  my  advances.  While  I  was  stroking  her 
neck,  an  under-sized  mastiff  came  up  and  watched 
me.  He  seemed  suspicious,  but  I  soon  overcame 
all  that. 

1  You  seem  pleased  with  the  mare,'  remarked  my 
host,  a  striking  looking  and  well-preserved  man  in 
the  fifties. 

4 1  certainly  am,'   I  replied. 

4  There  is  a  most  interesting  story  connected  with 
the  ancestors  of  both  the  mare  and  the  dog,'  he  said, 
as  his  eyes  lit  up  with  the  fires  of  recollection. 

And  so,  as  we  sat  over  our  pleasant  lunch,  the 
story  as  told  above  was  narrated,  and  was  listened 
to  not  only  by  the  guests  of  the  family  but  by  a  most 
charming  woman  and  three  bright-faced  children. 

4  And  this  attractive  little  mare  is  a  descendant 
of  the  "  Sallie  "  that  saved  your  life  ? '  I  enquired. 

4  Exactly  ;  and  the  dog  is  a  descendant  of  the  one 
I  got  in  the  woods,'  my  host  smilinglv  remarked. 

'And  Sallie?'   I  asked. 

4 1  '11  show  you  her  grave  if  you  care  to  see  it. 


Sallie   Russell  145 

She  died  at  a  happy  old  age,'  he  said,  '  but  there  is 
one  thing  I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  .  .  .' 

'Which  is  —  ?' 

1  Sallie  was  the  mother,  three  generations  back, 
of  the  famous  trotter  "  Maud  S."  Do  n't  you  think 
that  "blood  will  tell?"' 


LITTLE   BYRON 


LITTLE    BYRON. 


'T  was  a  November  day,  cold,  windy, 
and  altogether  disagreeable.  But, 
cold  as  it  was,  it  was  not  too  cold 
for  dog-dealers.  For  several  hours 
one  of  this  curious  fraternity  had 
stood  at  a  prominent  street  corner 
on  Fifth  Avenue.  Under  each 
arm  he  held  a  shivering  little 
puppy  ;  and  he  tried,  by  covering 
a  part  of  their  bodies  with  his 
sleeves,  to  stop  their  pitiful  trembling  from  the  cruel 
cold,  but  with  only  partial  success. 

The  little  fellow  under  the  man's  right  arm  was 
unmistakably  a  pug.  Although  but  little  of  his  body 
was  visible,  the  soft  yellowish  skin,  tipped  at  the  nose 
and  feet  with  black,  easily  sufficed  for  his  identifi- 
cation. A  pretty  blue  ribbon,  tied  in  a  neat  bow 
around  his  neck,  implied  respectable  antecedents  and 
associations. 


150  Little   Byron 

The  puppy  under  the  man's  left  arm  was  easily 
recognizable  as  a  Scotch  terrier.  He  too  was  chilled 
by  the  cold,  but  his  bright  and  restless  little  eyes 
took  note  of  everything  around  him,  and  cast  appeal- 
ing glances  at  the  passers-by.  A  red  ribbon  was 
around  his  neck,  but  it  was  plain  he  did  not  like  it 
and  could  not  understand  its  use.  Every  little  while 
he  would  raise  a  pudgy  paw  and  try  to  work  the 
ribbon  off;  but  a  shake  from  the  man's  rough  hand 
would  cause  him  to  be  more  quiet. 

The  man  spoke  not  a  word  to  the  passers-by, 
but  took  care  to  keep  the  puppies  plainly  in  sight, 
showing  their  points  of  beauty  to  the  best  advantage. 
And  so  hour  after  hour  passed.  Occasionally  a  lady 
would  stop  to  admire  the  little  creatures.  They 
usually  looked  up  in  her  face,  blinking  their  eyes,  and 
snuffing  timidly  to  see  if  she  were  a  friend.  Again, 
a  messenger  boy,  on  his  way  to  deliver  an  important 
note,  would  stop  and  gaze  at  the  puppies,  and  try  to 
talk  to  the  seller.  Usually  the  attempt  was  not  suc- 
cessful ;  and  so  the  boy  would  be  compelled  to  find 
amusement  elsewhere  along  his  route. 

After  a  time  the  puppies  grew  hungry.     As  long 


>    :        he  man's  left  arm  was  easily 

otch  terrier.      He  too  was  chilled 

ut  his   bright  and   restless   little   eyes 

jf  everything  around  him,  and  cast  appeal- 

es  at   the   passers-by.      A    red   ribbon   was 

id  his  neck,  but  it  was  plain  he  did  not  like  it 

could  not  understand  its  use.     Every  little  while 

he   would   raise  a  pudgy  paw  and   try  to  work   the 

ribbon  off;  but  a  shake  from  the  man's  rough  hand 

would  cause  him  to  be  more  quiet. 

1  <  KEkiiunalfc  spifaty  nwmlil  stop  to  -.uiniiixTtteilstfy, 

but  took  care  to  kee^^&f'^ippies   plainly  in  sight, 

showing  th,..»—  -  J-   H,v,,H,,,.t 

And  so  h. 

would    stop   to    adm 

usually  looked  up  m  her  i<..  ,,  and 

snurfing  timidly  to  see  if  she  were  a  friend.      Again, 

cr  boy,  on  his  way  to  deliver  an  important 

.  would  stop  and  gaze  at  the  puppies,  and  try  to 

>  the  seller.      Usually  the  attempt  was  not  suc- 

.  and  so  the  boy  would  be  compelled  to  find 

elsewhere  along  his  route. 

ne  the  puppies  grew  hungry.     As  long 


Little  Byron  151 

as  they  did  not  whine,  the  man  paid  no  attention  to 
their  sufferings ;  but  the  terrier  soon  made  known 
his  wants,  and  the  pug  quickly  seconded  him.  Then 
the  man  took  a  bottle  from  his  pocket  and  poured 
what  seemed  to  be  milk  down  their  throats.  In 
reality  *it  was  milk  strongly  charged  with  whiskey. 
The  little  fellows  did  not  like  it ;  but  when  hunger 
is  fierce,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  They  swallowed  it. 
Then  they  grew  very  quiet,  and  blinked  their  eyes 
sleepily.  But  in  a  few  minutes  all  this  changed. 
Their  eyes  seemed  to  grow  large.  They  stopped 
trembling.  Next  they  appeared  more  lively,  so  that 
when  a  kindly  old  gentleman  stopped  and  began 
stroking  their  hair  the  terrier  wriggled  and  twisted 
like  an  angleworm,  while  the  pug  barked  furiously. 

1  Lots  of  life  in  them,'  said  the  man ;  4  shows 
their  breeding.' 

'  Have  you  their  pedigree  ? '  inquired  the  old 
gentleman. 

4  Yes,  sir;  raised  them  myself  from  imported  dogs. 
One  of  the  mothers  I  brought  from  Europe.' 

The  old  man  looked  incredulous.  He  suspected 
something  of  the  real  truth,  which  was  that  the 


152  Little   Byron 

dog-seller  had  received  the  puppies  that  morning  by 
express  from  another  city  where  they  had  been 
stolen  by  one  of  his  confederates.  So  the  old  man 
passed  on. 

The  unnatural  life  which  the  liquored  milk  had 
given  the  puppies  soon  passed  away,  and  they  began 
to  be  stupid.  The  man  was  about  to  produce  the 
bottle  a  second  time,  when  a  lady  stopped  in  front 
of  him.  She  looked  first  at  one  puppy,  and  then  at 
the  other,  and  finally  placed  her  hand  on  the  head 
of  the  terrier. 

The  dog-seller  gave  the  puppy  a  sharp  pinch, 
unseen  by  the  lady,  and  this  aroused  the  drooping 
life  in  the  little  animal.  His  eyes  became  bright 
again,  and  when  the  man  called  '  Rats  '  he  pricked 
up  his  ears  and  looked  around  inquiringly. 

'  He  's  very  gamy,'  said  the  man,  lifting  the 
puppy  by  the  back  of  the  neck,  an  operation  which 
causes  but  little  pain,  although  it  appears  cruel. 
4  He 's  affectionate,  too,'  he  continued,  holding  the 
puppy  up  toward  his  beard.  The  little  fellow 
reached  out  his  head  as  if  he  loved  the  man,  but 
the  truth  was  the  dog-seller's  whiskers  had  been 


Little   Byron  153 

rubbed  with  an  odorous  oily  material  which  dogs  like, 
and  the  puppy  stretched  out  his  nose  to  scent  it. 

4  How  cunning  he  is ! '  exclaimed  the  woman. 
4  Will  he  make  a  good  pet  dog  ? ' 

'  Never  a  better  one,  ma'am,'  replied  the  vender. 

1  And  can  I  lead  him  on  the  street  ? ' 

'Just  as  easy  as  you  would  a  child,  ma'am,'  said 
the  man. 

4 1  'm  very  fond  of  dogs ;  but  I  hate  cats,'  con- 
tinued the  prospective  customer.  4  Now  this  one 
looks  like  a  nice  doggy.  I  do  n't  know  much  about 
them,  I  'm  afraid  ;  but  would  this  one  look  well  on 
the  street  ? ' 

4  He  'd  look  like  a  drum  major,  ma'am.  Lots 
of  style  to  him.  No  end  of  people  will  turn  to  look 
at  him  when  he  gets  grown  up  and  goes  out  with  a 
stylish  lady,  ma'am.' 

The  subtle  flattery  had  its  effect.  The  dog- 
seller  was  evidently  a  very  discriminating  person. 

1  How  much  is  he  worth  ? ' 

4  Well,  ma'am,  these  dogs  mostly  sells  for  fifty 
dollars  apiece  when  they  are  such  a  pure  breed  as 
this,  but  I  will  sell  you  this  one  for  thirty-five  dollars, 


154  Little   Byron 

for  I  know  you  will  be  kind  to  him  and  give  him  a 
good  home.  I  would  n't  sell  him  to  some  people, 
not  for  no  money.'  And  the  man  seemed  greatly 
moved  by  tenderness,  but  not  so  much  so  as  to  forget 
to  pinch  the  puppy  again,  to  make  him  appear  lively. 

1 1  do  n't  think  I  can  afford  to  pay  so  much,' 
she  declared,  with  the  air  of  a  bargainer ;  '  but  if 
you  will  deliver  him  to  my  house  this  evening  I  will 
pay  you  twenty-five  dollars  for  him.' 

In  reality,  the  man  would  have  taken  five  dol- 
lars ;  but  he  argued  strongly  for  more. 

'  I  brought  the  mother  of  this  dog  from  England,' 
he  said.  '  She  was  one  of  a  litter  that  was  owned 
by  the  Princess  of  Wales.  My  brother  worked  in 
the  garden  at  the  palace,  and  so  got  the  dog  for  me. 
Very  few  ladies  owns  a  dog  related  to  the  Princess 
of  Wales's  dog.' 

The  man  delivered  his  statement  unblushingly, 
and  the  woman  accepted  it  as  true.  She  hesitated 
no  longer,  but  would  have  paid  an  even  larger  sum 
rather  than  miss  obtaining  so  rare  a  dog.  And  so 
that  evening  found  the  little  terrier  in  an  Avenue 


Little   Byron  155 

mansion,  where  he  was  to  be  the  pet  of  a  lady  of 
fashion. 

Mrs.  Forsythe  Merton  was  a  widow,  and  a 
woman  of  social  ambitions.  In  this  respect,  at  least, 
she  was  on  a  par  with  many  others.  She  possessed 
the  wealth,  but  not  the  ability,  to  become  a  social 
queen.  Naturally,  then,  she  became  an  imitator. 
Certain  prominent  people,  in  imitation  of  European 
potentates,  put  silver  chains  and  monograms  on  their 
harness.  Mrs.  Merton  covered  her  harness  with 
silver,  and  her  monogram  could  be  recognized  across 
the  street.  Several  lonely  childless  women  in  the 
upper  circles  had  adopted  dogs  to  relieve  their  loneli- 
ness. Mrs.  Merton,  although  she  was  not  lonely,  as 
she  possessed  a  grown-up  daughter,  felt  that  she  too 
required  a  dog.  But  while  the  ladies  whom  Mrs. 
Merton  imitated  had  possessed  dogs  designed  prima- 
rily for  pets,  Mrs.  Merton  purchased  one  fitted  for 
life  and  animation,  not  for  sleep  and  laziness.  Yet 
she  had  not  discernment  enough  to  discover  her 
mistake. 

Mrs.  Merton  named  her  dog  Byron.      It  pleased 


156  Little   Byron 

her  to  have  a  romantic  name  for  him,  and  the  name 
suited  the  little  fellow  just  as  well  as  if  it  had  been 
Jack  or  Terry.  And  then  she  tried  to  train  him, 
to  subdue  his  restless  spirit.  At  first  she  used  sharp 
words,  then  harsh  commands,  then  a  whip.  It  would 
have  been  as  easy  to  tame  the  waves  of  the  sea. 
The  restless  blood  within  his  veins  could  only  be 
quieted  by  exercise  and  life.  Then  she  turned  him 
over  to  the  servants.  If  his  life  had  been  tiresome 
before,  it  was  wretched  now.  Had  the  little  terrier 
been  the  property  of  the  servants,  they  would  have 
treated  him  less  harshly,  perhaps  sometimes  even 
kindly ;  but  he  belonged  to  the  mistress,  and  they 
felt  no  love  for  him.  He  was  fed  well  enough,  but 
he  never  heard  a  kind  word,  and  was  continually 
beaten  'and  kicked  about.  But  in  spite  of  all  this 
harshness  and  abuse,  his  natural  vivacity  kept  him 
up,  and  he  thrived  wonderfully. 

One  day  Mrs.  Merton  determined  to  take  him 
out  with  her  for  a  walk  on  the  Avenue.  He  was 
decorated  as  carefully  as  if  dressed  for  a  reception, 
and  was  glad  enough  to  go.  And  then  the  trouble 
began.  Mrs.  Merton  walked  in  a  stately  manner : 


Little   Byron  157 

poor  Byron  could  not  do  so.  He  pulled  at  the  cord 
with  joy  at  the  sight  of  every  dog  they  met,  and  flew 
around  as  if  mad.  Mrs.  Merton  was  mortified  and 
angry.  She  would  have  liked  to  kill  the  little  fel- 
low then  and  there  ;  but  outwardly  she  was  smiling 
and  serene. 

At  last  the  walk  was  ended.  Mrs.  Merton 
retired  to  her  room,  taking  the  young  dog  with  her. 
A  row  of  shapely  shoes  was  at  the  side  of  the  wall ; 
and  seizing  one  of  these,  and  holding  the  innocent 
cause  of  her  vexation  by  the  collar,  she  gave  him  a 
cruel  beating.  As  she  stopped  from  exhaustion,  the 
trembling  little  creature  looked  up  into  her  face  with 
pleading  eyes  ;  but  he  saw  no  pity  there,  only  cold, 
cruel  pride,  and  relentless,  unreasoning  anger.  He 
felt  no  resentment,  for  he  did  not  snarl  or  growl. 
He  forgave  her  the  moment  she  released  him,  for 
he  turned  affectionately  and  licked  her  hand.  She 
drew  it  sharply  away,  boxed  his  ears,  and  harshly 
ordered  him  to  lie  down.  With  an  inquiring  and 
appealing  look,  he  turned  and  obeyed. 

After  this  episode  his  life  was  a  series  of  misfor- 
tunes. The  servants  abused  him  shamefully,  and  his 


158  Little   Byron 

mistress  always  treated  htm  with  harshness.  His 
nature  was  so  buoyant  and  cheerful  that  he  would 
have  been  happy  with  even  a  few  words  or  acts  of 
kindness;  but  they  were  never  given  him.  He 
would  gladly  have  surrendered  the  active  life  for 
which  he  was  fitted  for  the  quiet  life  he  was  com- 
pelled to  lead,  had  kindness  been  coupled  with  it, 
but  it  was  not.  The  only  time  he  ever  heard  the 
gentler  tones  of  the  human  voice  was  when  company 
was  present.  Then  he  was  spoken  to  kindly,  and 
caressed  with  the  greatest  apparent  affection. 

One  day  he  ventured  to  follow  Mrs.  Merton 
into  the  hall,  where  she  was  saying  some  parting 
words  to  her  visitors.  She  spoke  gently  to  him, 
lifted  him  in  her  arms  and  stroked  his  silky  hair, 
while  chatting  with  her  friends.  The  act  and  the 
posing  made  a  pretty  effect,  which  she  well  under- 
stood. The  last  words  were  said,  the  door  swung 
on  its  noiseless  hinges,  and  she  was  alone,  when, 
without  a  word,  the  same  hand  which  had  just 
pressed  so  gently  the  palms  of  her  friends  fell  in 
anger  upon  the  head  of  the  helpless  dog,  carrying 


Little   Byron  159 

pain  to  his  little  body  and  agony  to  his  sensitive 
spirit.  And  so  he  was  compelled  to  endure  a  slavery 
worse  than  death.  He  had  no  one  to  appeal  to : 
no  friends  at  hand.  His  suffering  was  unknown 
outside  of  the  walls  he  was  compelled  to  call  home. 
No  humane  ears  heard  his  plaintive  whinings,  which 
at  times"  he  could  not  repress  ;  no  humane  eyes  saw 
the  abuse,  or  the  sufferings  that  resulted.  The  book 
of  record  in  which  unmerciful  deeds  are  kept  has 
never  been  opened  to  human  view,  and  the  mysteri- 
ous entries  made  therein  will  not  be  known  until  the 
day  when  mercy  may  be  most  required. 

Cruelty,  neglect,  confinement,  and  grief  at  last 
told  upon  little  Byron,  and  he  lost  his  cheerful  spirits 
and  bright  ways.  Then  his  mistress  considered  him 
a  nuisance.  She  would  willingly  have  given  him 
away  ;  but  the  love  she  had  professed  for  him  before 
her  friends  would  not  permit  it. 

One  day  he  seemed  duller  than  usual,  and  one 
of  the  servants  who  had  just  kicked  him  stooped 
down  and  examined  him  closely. 

4  The  little  brute  has  got  the  mange,'  he  ex- 
claimed. 


160  Little   Byron 

When  this  intelligence  came  to  Mrs.  Merton's 
ears,  she  called  the  servant. 

'  James,'  she  said,  c  I  want  you  to  take  Byron 
out  for  exercise ;  and  while  you  are  gone,  lose  him. 
Do  you  understand  ? ' 

'  I  do,  ma'am,  and  I  '11  do  it,'  said  the  faithfully 
brutal  servant. 

The  night  was  the  .middle  of  December,  clear 
and  cold.  The  servant  and  Byron  came  down  Fifth 
Avenue  until  they  reached  Madison  Square.  James 
crossed  the  square,  walking  briskly,  and  Byron  am- 
bled along  as  fast  as  his  weakened  strength  and 
partially  blinded  eyes  would  permit.  He  saw  James 
just  ahead  of  him,  and  heard  the  sound  of  his  feet 
on  the  stone  walk.  Suddenly  the  sound  ceased.  He 
looked  around  him  :  he  was  alone.  Slowly  he 
realized  his  new  situation  :  he  was  lost  and  homeless. 
His  had  been  a  wretched  home,  but  it  was  his  only 
one ;  and  he  felt  the  anguish  of  despair. 

There  is  nothing  in  nature  or  in  life  more  forlorn 
and  pitiable  than  a  lost  dog.  Men  have  their  pride 
and  consciousness  of  manhood  to  lean  upon ;  but 


Little   Byron  161 

our  dumb  friends  are  dependent  upon  us.  Dogs 
especially  must  have  someone  to  serve,  someone  to 
love.  Their  faithfulness  becomes  servility.  The 
hunting  dog  will  go  until  he  drops,  at  the  command 
of  his  master.  The  fighting  dog  will  endure  until 
death,  if  a  brutal  owner  urges  him  on.  Even  the 
most  abused  and  most  debased  of  dogs  will  stand  by 
and  serve  masters  lower  in  the  scale  of  being  than 
themselves.  The  world  knows  of  no  greater  devo- 
tion, a  devotion  to  which  the  higher  orders  of  hu- 
manity seldom  attain. 

Byron  was  not  a  hunter,  and  could  not  follow  a 
trail.  He  knew  his  brown-stone  home  on  the 
Avenue  when  he  saw  it ;  but,  alas,  with  his  dimmed 
eyesight  he  could  not  find  it.  The  wind  had  full 
sweep  of  Madison  Square,  and  it  ruffled  the  hair 
upon  his  weakened  body,  chilling  him  through  and 
through.  He  tried  to  face  it,  but  the  fierce  gusts 
blew  him  to  one  side.  He  sought  the  shelter  of  the 
great  fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  square,  which  gave 
him  some  protection.  Presently  it  began  to  snow ; 
slowly  at  first,  but  with  great  white  flakes  coming 


162  Little   Byron 

down  silently,  steadily,  mercilessly.  They  were 
drifted  about  and  blown  in  every  direction,  and 
formed  a  winding-sheet  for  poor  little  Byron. 

His  plaintive  whinings  had  been  growing  feebler ; 
his  eyes  were  becoming  dimmed  to  all  about  him. 
Inside  the  fountain  inclosure,  where  the  rippling 
music  of  the  water  had  all  the  long  summer  kept 
time  to  the  laughter  of  merry  children,  the  '  spar- 
row police  '  of  the  park  had  stored  the  now  empty 
benches  on  which  tramps  and  nurses  and  lovers 
had  passed  so  many  happy  and  sunny  hours.  Byron 
made  a  desperate  effort,  and  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing the  shelter  of  one  of  these  piles  of  deserted 
benches.  The  cold  here  was  no  less  intense,  but 
the  wind  was  not  so  piercing,  and  the  snow  came 
only  in  sifting  flakes.  Here  he  passed  the  night. 
His  weak  form  curled  itself  into  a  trembling  and 
shivering  mass,  getting  what  warmth  it  could  from 
its  own  vitality.  The  icy  stone  was  his  bed,  and 
the  latticed  benches  his  only  covering.  Poor  little 
Byron !  God  pity  him,  in  his  desertion  and  despair ; 
and  God  pity  and  forgive  the  heartless  ones  who  turn 


Little   Byron  163 

out  upon  a  cruel  world   helpless  and  confiding  crea- 
tures, worthy  their  care  and  love. 

The  night  of  suffering  slowly  passed,  and  at  last 
came  the  morning.  Byron  was  so  weak  and  feverish 
that  he  could  hardly  move.  Some  instinct,  however, 
caused  him  to  make  the  effort ;  and  he  drew  himself 
together  as  best  he  could,  and  wandered  aimlessly 
across  the  park,  shivering  and  almost  blinded.  What 
was  it  that  caused  him,  in  his  misery,  to  seek  the 
very  corner  where,  a  year  before,  he  had  been  sold 
by  the  dog-vender  ?  Whatever  it  was,  at  last  he 
reached  the  spot,  and  stood  there  trembling  and 
forlorn.  He  had  once  been  a  pet,  and  fairly  cared 
for.  Now  he  was  friendless  and  deserted ;  but,  un- 
fortunately, he  was  not  alpne.  A  boy  who  was 
sweeping  the  sidewalk  struck  at  him  with  his  broom. 
He  shrank  away  from  the  blow,  and,  in  his  half- 
blind  condition,  brushed  against  the  freshly  polished 
boots  of  a  young  exquisite.  Oh,  what  a  cruel  kick 
he  received  !  A  shop-girl,  hurrying  to  her  store, 
failed  to  see  him  and  almost  stepped  upon  him.  She 
drew  her  skirts  away  in  horror,  and  uttered  a  harsh 


164  Little   Byron 

reproach  that  seemed  to  hurt  him  more  than  either 
the  boy's  blow  or  the  dandy's  kick.  Byron  turned 
his  bewildered  little  head  in  every  direction  ;  but  the 
very  atmosphere  seemed  rilled  with  hostility.  Laughs, 
jeers,  harsh  words,  and  cruel  taunts  greeted  his  sen- 
sitive ears,  while  his  half-blinded  eyes  looked  appeal- 
ingly  about  him  for  the  semblance  of  a  friend. 

Among  the  Babel  of  hostile  voices,  his  quick  ear 
at  last  caught  a  sympathetic  tone.  He  could  not 
see  the  one  from  whom  it  came,  but  he  groped  his 
way  in  the  direction  of  the  sound.  Then  he  felt  a 
gentle  hand  resting  kindly  on  his  head,  while  words 
of  sympathy  came  like  heavenly  music  amidst  the 
discords.  So  hungry  was  he  for  kindness  that  his 
troubles  seemed  now  at  an  end.  And  then  the  light 
touch  of  the  friendly  hand  was  gone,  and  the  gentle 
voice  had  ceased ;  but  he  knew  the  direction  they 
had  taken,  and  blindly  followed.  Again  the  discord 
and  danger  were  around  him ;  but  he  felt  that  a 
refuge  was  just  ahead,  and  staggered  on.  Presently 
a  curbstone  checked  his  progress ;  then  a  stone  flung 
by  a  cruel  boy  crashed  against  his  head.  He  rolled 
over  in  the  gutter,  just  as  a  gorgeous  carriage,  filled 


• 


He  lav  there  in  hopeless  agom   and  despair. 


f  \\     II  AMI!  I 


-<>n*,  he  h.. 
of   his    i., 
-*»>,,      Hut  wb<n   he  saw  that  the  c.- 


Little   Byron  165 

with  a  gay  party  on  their  way  to  the  steamer,  came 
along.  The  driver  saw  the  helpless  creature  lying 
there  in  his  way,  but  did  not  turn  aside  his  horses 
or  stop  to  avoid  an  accident.  Byron's  head  was 
almost  under  the  heavy  wheel;  in  another  instant  it 
would  be  crushed. 

A  slight  movement  on  the  part  of  the  little 
fellow,  struggling  blindly  just  before  the  wheel,  saved 
his  life  ;  but  one  of  the  silken  ears,  that  had  been  so 
often  stroked  by  white  and  jewelled  hands,  was 
caught  and  crushed  against  the  pavement.  He  lay 
there  in  hopeless  agony  and  despair,  the  victim  of  a 
cruel  and  relentless  fate  which  seemed  bent  on  heap- 
ing every  possible  evil  on  his  head.  Yet  he  had 
never  done  a  wicked,  a  treacherous,  or  a  cruel  act. 
He  had  been  gentle,  loving,  and  faithful,  even  when 
slighted  and  abused. 

A  few  moments  before,  a  gentleman  had  noticed 
the  friendless  little  dog,  and  had  stopped  to  speak 
kindly  to  him,  and  even  stroked  his  head  ;  but,  like 
many  well-disposed  persons,  he  had  passed  on  with- 
out thinking  further  of  his  needs  or  helping  him  in 
any  way.  But  when  he  saw  that  the  carriage  had 


166  Little   Byron 

run  over  the  little  fellow,  he  started  at  once  to  help 
him. 

A  crowd  had  already  begun  to  gather  about  the 
place.  l  Send  for  the  Bergh  people,'  said  one  man, 
helplessly.  '  Get  the  policeman  to  put  a  ball  in  him,' 
remarked  another. 

These  and  other  suggestions,  equally  foolish  or 
brutal,  were  cut  short  by  the  gentleman  lifting  the 
little  dog  in  his  arms  and  quietly  taking  him  away. 
The  poor  sufferer,  weak  and  trembling  as  he  was, 
nestled  close  to  his  new  protector,  trying  feebly  to 
lick  his  hands,  as  though  to  show  his  gratitude  at 
having  found  at  last,  what  was  so  needful  to  his 
happiness  and  to  his  very  life,  a  sincere  human  friend. 

It  was  the  turning-point  in  little  Byron's  career. 
The  ill-fortune  that  had  hitherto  pursued  him  fol- 
lowed him  no  further.  Snatched  from  an  impending 
and  cruel  death,  he  was  carefully  nursed  back  to 
health  and  comeliness,  and  found  in  the  home  of  his 
new  benefactor  the  happiness  and  protection  that  had 
previously  been  denied  him.  The  wrong  and  cruelty, 
the  harsh  words  and  brutal  deeds,  that  had  been 


Little  Byron  167 

visited  upon  him  so  unmercifully,  became  to  him  but 
an  evil  dream  or  an  indistinct  memory. 

But  he  did  not  quite  forget.  One  day,  while 
walking  in  the  Park  with  his  beloved  master,  they 
met  a  lady,  richly  dressed,  who  bowed  pleasantly  to 
the  gentleman,  but  gave  a  start  of  surprise  at  sight 
of  little  Byron.  She  called  him  by  name  ;  but  the 
dog  shrank  from  her  in  affright. 

'What,  do  you  know  him?'  asked  the  gentleman. 

4  Oh,  yes,  we  are  old  friends,  are  n't  we,  Byron  ? ' 
replied  the  lady. 

But  Byron  told  no  tales. 

How  fortunate  it  may  sometimes  be  for  people 
that  their  '  dumb  companions '  are  dumb  indeed ! 


BABY  AND   THE   KITTEN 


BABY  AND   THE    KITTEN. 


HAVE  a  charming  pair  of 
friends,  a  married  couple, 
whom  I  knew  previous  to 
their  marriage.  They  are 
exceedingly  happy,  and  ap- 
parently inhabit  but  one 
world,  and  that  is  their 
home.  They  were  the 
proud  possessors  of  a  beau- 
tiful child  ;  and  when  I  say 
beautiful,  I  mean  all  that  the  word  implies.  Even 
I,  a  bachelor,  could  see  and  in  a  manner  appreciate 
this  wondrous  beauty.  And  how.  my  friends  dis- 
coursed about  that  child,  and  tried  to  interest  me  in 
him  !  and,  really,  I  was  quite  impressed  by  their 
arguments,  and  even  more  so  by  the  child  itself. 

When  the  baby  was  about  a  year  old  the  nurse 
one  day  gave  it  a  little  white  kitten  to  play  with. 
This  kitten  was  one  of  a  number  which  had  been 
reared  in  the  house,  and  had  just  arrived  at  the  kit- 


1 72  Baby  and  the   Kitten 

tenish  stage  of  playfulness.  It  was  a  case  of  mutual 
admiration  and  friendship  from  the  first.  The  baby 
was  immensely  pleased  with  the  kitten,  while  the 
kitten  itself  looked  with  wondering  eyes  at  the  little 
child  before  it.  It  was  evidently  its  first  sight  of  a 
baby,  and  it  could  hardly  understand  the  diminutive 
creature.  Finally  it  lifted  a  little  paw  on  which  the 
claws  were  carefully  gloved,  and  gently,  half  playfully 
and  half  inquiringly,  stroked  the  baby's  chubby  hand. 
The  baby  seemed  to  like  it,  and  began  to  crow  and 
laugh  in  that  highly  original  manner  common  with 
babies.  This  seemed  to  close  the  contract  of  friend- 
ship on  the  part  of  these  two  youthful  beings,  and  in 
a  few  moments  they  were  frolicking  together  as  hap- 
pily as  could  be  imagined. 

Whether  it  was  because  the  new  state  of  things 
gave  the  nursemaid  more  leisure  or  because  the  child 
required  less  of  her  attention,  she  seemed  at  all  events 
to  encourage  the  friendship  that  had  arisen  between 
Baby  and  the  kitten.  And  so,  with  a  dainty  blue 
ribbon  about  its  neck,  the  little  bundle  of  down  was 
permitted  to  play  about  the  crib  and  ride  in  the  baby 
carriage  nearly  every  day.  The  two  became  almost 


Baby  and   the   Kitten  173 

inseparable  companions  —  a  state  of  things  less  re- 
markable from  the  standpoint  of  the  baby  than  from 
that  of  the  restless  and  playful  kitten.  It  was  per- 
haps not  surprising  that  at  first  mamma  looked  with 
a  certain  distrust,  not  unmixed  with  jealousy,  at  the 
strange  friendship.  She  had  heard,  as  most  parents 
have,  of  the  superstitious  legends  that  kittens  had 
been  known  to  c  suck  the  breath '  of  infants,  but  she 
was  a  woman  of  too  much  education  and  common 
sense  to  give  anything  so  ridiculous  more  than  a 
passing  thought ;  and  so  she  permitted,  while  she  did 
not  encourage,  the  newly  formed  friendship. 

It  was  one  of  the  most  amusing  of  sights  to 
watch  these  little  friends  play  together.  The  kitten 
soon  came  to  understand  the  use  of  the  rattle,  and 
managed  to  make  as  much  noise  with  it  as  did  the 
baby.  And  between  the  two  infants  the  nursery 
became  a  very  lively  place ;  in  fact,  the  child  seemed 
able  to  dispense  with  the  usual  playthings  of  baby- 
hood, and  took  high  enjoyment  in  tumbling  the  kitten 
about,  watching  its  antics,  and  crowing  at  the  top 
of  his  voice.  It  could  easily  be  seen  that  the  baby 
unintentionally  hurt  the  kitten  occasionally,  and  the 


174  Baby   and  the  Kitten 

feline  infant  usually  protested  by  a  shrill  cry  ;  but  it 
never  tried  to  resent  the  treatment,  and  never  for  a 
moment  permitted  its  claws  to  lacerate  the  delicate 
skin  of  the  baby. 

And  so  these  two  young  creatures  grew  along 
together,  although  it  could  easily  be  seen  that  the 
kitten  was  maturing  much  faster  than  the  baby ;  but 
the  intimacy  between  them  seemed  to  increase  rather 
than  diminish.  One  day  the  nurse,  for  some  reason 
known  only  to  her  class,  lost  her  temper  and  spoke 
harshly  to  the  child,  and  even  began  to  shake  it.  The 
kitten  was  lying  quietly  asleep  at  the  foot  of  the  crib, 
but  at  the  first  sound  of  the  harsh  words  it  opened 
its  eyes  and  looked  up  with  wonder.  Then  a  com- 
plete change  seemed  to  come  over  it.  The  familiar 
sight  of  the  arched  back,  puffed  fur,  and  glaring  eyes, 
was  followed  by  the  snarling,  spitting  actions  common 
to  cat  nature,  and  the  kitten  sprang  upon  the  nurse, 
clawing  and  striking  vigorously.  Of  course  it  was 
unable  to  do  any  serious  harm,  but  it  brought  the 
nurse  girl  to  her  senses,  and  she  released  the  baby 
from  her  grasp.  Whether  the  two  little  friends  were 
happier  over  the  result,  and  in  their  way  talked  con- 


Baby  and  the  Kitten  175 

fidentially  about  its  outcome,  will  perhaps  never  be 
known  ;  but  at  all  events  they  had  a  very  frolicsome 
time  for  the  next  half  hour. 

The  little  kitten  began  to  develop  a  fondness 
for  music,  though  not  always  of  the  highest  order, 
for  it  seemed  as  much  fascinated  by  the  hand-organ 
in  the  street  as  by  the  piano  which  its  mistress  occa- 
sionally played.  At  such  times  it  would  sit  very 
quietly,  often  with  its  head  turned  to  one  side,  its  ears 
erect,  and  its  eyes  sometimes  very  wide  open,  and 
again  dreamily  and  drowsily  listening  as  long  as  the 
music  continued.  Evidently  the  baby  did  not  have 
so  good  an  ear  for  music,  for  he  often  seemed  rest- 
less while  the  kitten  was  so  absorbed,  and  sought  to 
break  up  the  reverie  in  which  his  feline  friend  was 
indulging ;  but  the  kitten  usually  managed  to  hear 
the  music,  notwithstanding  the  interruptions. 

On  one  occasion,  on  a  warm  spring  day,  the 
music  of  an  organ  was  heard  upon  the  street,  and 
the  sounds  came  distinctly  through  the  open  window 
near  which  the  baby  and  kitten  were  playing.  The 
little  animal  listened  intently,  turning  its  head  from 
side  to  side  with  its  ears  very  erect.  The  .baby  tried 


ij6  Baby  and  the  Kitten 

to  drown  the  sound  of  the  organ  by  using  its  lungs 
at  their  utmost  capacity  ;  but  it  was  in  vain.  Sud- 
denly, without  noise  or  warning,  a  monkey,  dressed 
in  a  red  coat  and  with  a  jaunty  hat  set  upon  his 
head  in  a  rakish  manner,  appeared  at  the  open  win- 
dow. He  blinked  his  little  black  eyes,  and  chattered 
in  a  quiet  undertone,  while  gazing  at  the  astonished 
pair  before  him.  The  baby  was  thoroughly  fright- 
ened, and  uttered  a  piercing  scream  ;  while  the 
kitten,  without  retreating,  arched  its  back,  ruffled  its 
fur,  and  put  itself  in  a  position  of  defence.  It  was 
evident,  however,  that  the  monkey  was  as  much 
astonished  and  embarrassed  as  were  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  impromptu  party.  He  even  failed  to 
indulge  in  his  usual  begging  act,  notwithstanding 
that  the  string  of  his  master,  fastened  to  his  waist, 
was  prompting  him  to  do  so.  At  last,  however,  he 
seemed  to  grasp  the  situation,  and  came  forward, 
smiling  in  his  best  manner,  and  seated  himself  upon 
the  edge  of  the  crib.  By  this  time  the  expressions 
of  fear  on  the  faces  of  both  baby  and  kitten  had 
turned  to  amazement  and  curiosity  ;  so  that  when,  a 
few  moments  after,  the  nurse  entered  the  room,  she 


apacity  ;   but  it  was   in   vail 
it   noise  or  warning,  a  monkey, 

in  a  red  coat  and  with  a  jaunty  hat  set  upon  his 
head  in  a  rakish  manner,  appeared  at  the  open  win- 
dow. He  blinked  his  little  black  eyes,  and  chattered 
in  a  quiet  undertone,  while  gazing  at  the  astonished 
pair  before  him.  The  baby  was  thoroughly  fright- 
ened, and  uttered  .a  piercing  scream  ;  while  the 
kitten,  without  retreating,  arched  its  back,  ruffled  its 

fur,  and  put  itself  in  a  position  of  defence.      It  was 
L  He, blinked  his  little, black  c\es,    .    .    .    while  gazing 
evident,   however,   thai    ,          ,    .-r.fv.was,   as    murn 
'    at  the  astonished  pan  Before  him. 

astonis!  f,R.UVIN(;  BY  j.  C^TKR  BKARD. 

bers   of  the   impn  uied    to 

.  .  .  • 

that  the  string  of  his   n 

was  prompting ^him  to  do  so.      At   last,  however,  he 

seemed    to   grasp   the   situation,   and   came    forward, 

smiling  in  his  best  manner,  and  seated  himself  upon 

the  edge  of  the  crib.      By  this  time  the  expressions 

or"  fear  on   the   faces  of  both   baby  and    kitten    had 

to  amazement  and  curiosity  ;  so  that  when,  a 

ments  after,  the  nurse  entered  the  room,  she 


Baby  and  the  Kitten  177 

found  the  trio  in  the  happiest  kind  of  visiting  mood, 
although  the  string  of  the  musician  was  almost  break- 
ing the  monkey's  body  in  two,  so  stubbornly  did  he 
cling  to  the  crib  where  he  was  having  such  a  good 
time.  And  then  it  was  the  nurse  girl's  turn  to  be 
astonished  and  frightened.  It  is  quite  probable  that 
she  might  have  done  the  monkey  some  bodily  injury 
had  her  courage  been  greater.  But  when  she  saw 
how  pleasantly  the  three  were  getting  along,  she 
burst  into  laughter,  which  seemed  to  add  to  the 
enjoyment  of  the  entire  party.  Suddenly,  however, 
the  mother,  who  had  heard  the  child's  scream,  rushed 
into  the  nursery  :  and  she  too  was  filled  with  amaze- 
ment, then  amusement,  and  at  last  with  a  feeling  of 
kindness  toward  the  little  animal  that  had  produced 
such  a  happy  effect  upon  the  child.  However,  she 
sent  him  back  to  his  master  with  a  coin,  which  he 
placed  carefully  in  his  pocket  after  the  manner  of 
such  simian  financiers  ;  but  it  is  needless  to  say  he 
returned  the  next  day,  and  the  next,  and  that  the 
funniest  kind  of  tripartite  agreement  existed  for  a 
brief  period  each  day  in  that  nursery. 

There  was  another  interesting  little  association  in 
12 


178  Baby  and   the   Kitten 

which  the  baby  and  the  kitten  joined,  and  that  was 
with  the  sparrows.  One  morning  an  enterprising 
little  member  of  the  sparrow  fraternity  hopped  up 
on  the  window  sill,  either  from  curiosity  or  in  search 
of  food.  Baby  saw  him  and  began  to  crow.  Kitten 
saw  him,  and  at  once  assumed  that  crouching  cat-like 
attitude  common  to  its  race  ;  but  when  it  saw  the 
pleased  expression  on  the  baby's  face,  the  kitten 
seemed  to  relent  and  ceased  its  hostile  demonstra- 
tions. Then  the  nurse  quietly  threw  a  few  crumbs 
upon  the  sill,  which  the  fearless  little  sparrow  in- 
stantly devoured.  This  also  furnished  much  amuse- 
ment. Thus  it  happened  that  the  next  day,  when 
the  Sparrow  came  bringing  two  companions,  the 
entire  nursery  was  eagerly  awaiting  them  ;  and  within 
a  week  a  flock  of  these  little  chattering  birds  came 
regularly  each  day  to  the  window  sill.  Probably  no 
comedian  ever  furnished  more  amusement  to  an 
interested  audience  than  did  these  birds  to  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  nursery.  The  kitten  especially  seemed 
interested  in  them,  and  apparently  lost  all  desire  for 
their  destruction.  It  would  lie  on  the  edge  of  the 
window  ledge,  watching  the  birds  in  their  gyrations, 


Baby  and   the  Kitten  179 

permitting  them  to  come  within  easy  striking  dis- 
tance, and  all  the  while  seeming  much  amused  by 
the  happiness  caused  by  the  food  distribution  of  the 
nursery. 

But  while  there  were  pleasant  episodes  in  the 
association  of  Baby  and  the  kitten  with  other  youth- 
ful animals,  there  were  times  when  things  far  more 
serious  occurred.  One  evening,  just  at  twilight, 
when  the  baby  had  got  well  along  in  his  first  year 
and  the  kitten  had  attained  almost  its  full  propor- 
tions, the  child  was  lying  asleep,  while  the  kitten 
was  curled  up  in  that  form  of  alertful  rest  peculiar 
to  cat-nature.  Very  quietly  but  very  quickly  a  lithe 
body  glided  across  the  room  and  sprang  upon  the 
crib,  and  in  another  instant  a  half-grown  rat  had  set 
its  sharp  teeth  into  the  delicate  skin  of  the  baby's 
arm.  Although  the  kitten  had  never  seen  a  rat 
before,  yet  it  was  evident  that  no  explanation  was 
necessary  as  to  the  nature  of  the  intruder,  and  quick 
as  a  flash  the  kitten  seized  the  enemy,  sprang  to  the 
floor  with  it,  and  fought  with  the  fury  of  a  demon. 
Inexperienced  as  the  kitten  was,  the  task  was  no 
easy  one,  and  it  received  several  severe  wounds,  but 


i8o  Baby  and  the  Kitten 

never  for  an  instant  did  it  relax  its  hold,  and  in  a 
few  moments  it  had  extinguished  all  signs  of  life 
in  the  rodent.  Even  then  it  did  not  cease  to  hold 
it  fast,  so  that  when  the  nurse  and  members  of  the 
family,  who  had  heard  the  noise,  came  into  the  room, 
they  found  the  kitten  still  in  possession  of  the  in- 
truder, which  it  stubbornly  refused  to  relinquish. 

As  time  passed,  it  was  plain  that  the  kitten  was 
growing  in  size,  in  strength,  and  in  knowledge,  much 
faster  than  the  baby  ;  and  yet  this  growth  did  not 
seem  to  interfere  in  the  least  with  the  friendly  rela- 
tions that  had  always  existed.  So  that  when  the 
youthful  cat,  which  had  finally  been  named  Clytie, 
disappeared  from  the  nursery  for  a  period,  the  baby 
not  only  missed  it  but  mourned  for  it.  And  yet  the 
absence  continued  ;  and  while  the  baby  did  not  pine, 
it  was  manifest  to  both  parents  and  the  nurse  that 
he  felt  very  unhappy  over  the  loss  of  his  companion. 
One  day,  however,  Clytie  entered  the  nursery,  look- 
ing somewhat  emaciated  but  very  proud,  and  carrying 
in  her  mouth  a  diminutive  white  kitten,  which  she 
deposited  in  the  crib.  The  baby  was  overcome  by 
its  emotions.  Joy  at  the  sight  of  his  friend,  bewil- 


Baby  and  the  Kitten  181 

derment  upon  viewing  the  small  bundle  of  animated 
down,  and  a  curious  kind  of  fear,  seemed  to  struggle 
with  each  other.  But  Clytie  quickly  overcame  this 
embarrassment.  She  rubbed  her  head  gently  against 
the  baby's  hand,  purring  happily,  and  apparently  in 
an  ecstasy  of  pleasure.  Then  the  baby  caught  the 
infection,  which  made  matters  very  pleasant  in  that 
nursery  for  some  time  thereafter.  The  little  cat 
seemed  disposed  to  bring  her  entire  family  to  that 
room  ;  but  this  the  baby's  mother  would  not  permit. 
She  did,  however,  allow  the  cat  to  come  there  each 
day,  much  to  the  pleasure  of  both  child  and  pussie. 
It  was  several  months  after,  when  the  kittens 
were  fairly  grown,  that  their  mother  ventured  out 
upon  the  street  one  day  for  a  little  airing.  She 
was  standing  quietly  in  front  of  her  home  just  out- 
side the  area-way,  when  a  well-dressed  and  appar- 
ently well-bred  man  passed  along.  She  looked  up 
into  his  face  with  a  friendly,  half-inquiring  expres- 
sion, for  she  had  received  such  uniformly  kind  treat- 
ment all  her  life  that  she  could  not  think  the  human 
race  could  be  other  than  her  friends.  Suddenly,  and 
without  warning,  the  man  raised  a  heavy  foot,  gave 


182  Baby   and  the   Kitten 

her  a  cruel  kick  which  sent  her  into  the  area,  and 
passed  along  with  a  brutal  laugh.  The  suddenness 
of  the  action  had  prevented  the  cat  from  escaping, 
and  she  fell  into  the  area  with  two  of  her  ribs 
broken. 

There  was  a  memorable,  never-to-be-forgotten 
night,  which  came  to  the  circle  of  little  friends.  It 
was  November,  cold  and  bleak.  The  snow  fell 
charily,  and  was  seized  and  whirled  in  miniature 
cyclones  as  fast  as  it  came  down.  The  signs  upon 
the  offices  and  stores  creaked  dismally,  and  the  shut- 
ters of  the  houses  rattled  as  if  to  resent  the  attack 
of  the  storm.  It  was  '  Winter's  wild  birthnight.' 
And  yet,  within  hundreds  of  homes,  there  was 
warmth,  quiet,  and  happiness.  It  was  so  in  the 
home  that  sheltered  our  baby  and  his  parents.  They 
had  retired  early,  and  the  wild  noises  without  did 
not  disturb  their  slumbers.  The  lights  were  turned 
low  in  the  nursery,  and  all  was  still  within.  Sud- 
denly but  noiselessly  a  narrow  ray  of  light  flashed 
out  from  a  dark  corner.  It  wandered  in  a  long  pen- 
cilled line  toward  every  portion  of  the  room.  Then 
it  vanished,  and  a  stealthy,  shuffling  sound,  scarcely 


Baby   and  the   Kitten  183 

audible,  followed  the  direction  the  last  rays  had  taken. 
And  then  a  form,  grim  and  muffled,  stood  above 
the  spot  where  Baby  slept  the  sleep  of  innocence. 
The  light  from  the  lantern  was  flashed  once  more, 
just  enough  to  reveal  the  dark  face  of  the  midnight 
burglar  in  marked  contrast  to  the  sleeping  child 
beneath  him.  And,  hardened  as  the  man  was,  des- 
perate as  was  his  venture  and  dangerous  as  was  his 
position,  he  paused,  looked  at  the  little  face  and  form, 
and  the  set  lines  upon  his  countenance  relaxed.  But 
it  was  only  for  an  instant.  A  sense  of  his  devilish 
errand  returned  to  him,  and  nerved  him  anew  to 
his  deed  of  plunder.  He  moved  away  from  the  side 
of  the  crib  and  was  about  to  enter  the  next  room, 
when  a  sound  such  as  that  household  had  never 
before  heard  awakened  the  echoes  and  even  aroused 
the  neighborhood.  It  was  a  wail  such  as  is  seldom 
heard  even  in  thickly  populated  cities.  It  rose  upon 
the  air,  died  away  in  a  moan,  and  was  renewed  with 
fresh  energy.  It  was  piercing,  almost  unearthly.  It 
checked  the  burglar,  and  made  him  a  sphinx  instead 
of  a  brigand.  Clytie  had  scented  danger  and  given 
the  alarm.  The  unusual  noise  awakened  Baby,  and 


184  Baby  and   the   Kitten 

he  added  his  vigorous  voice  to  the  general  uproar. 
No  burglar-alarm  ever  invented  could  equal,  for  a 
moment,  the  call  to  arms  these  two  youthful  voices 
produced.  And  the  burglar  realized  it.  He  saw- 
that  all  hopes  of  plunder  were  over,  and  that  flight 
was  his  only  salvation.  It  is  pleasant  to  be  able  to 
add  that  his  attempt  was  unsuccessful,  and  that  he 
was  captured  and  has  since  had  an  opportunity,  in  a 
felon's  cell,  of  philosophizing  upon  the  antipathy 
which  one  particular  cat  seemed  to  have  for  him. 
It  was  a  summer  day,  hot,  dusty,  oppressive. 
Baby  had  been  playing  with  Clyde,  but  seemed  to 
grow  weary,  and  finally  turned  his  head  away  and 
laid  his  flushed  cheek  down  upon  the  pillow.  Clytie 
could  not  understand  this  unusual  conduct,  and  so 
curled  her  white  bundle  of  fur  up  cosily  beside  him. 
But  the  little  child  was  restless,  and  turned  uneasily 
from  side  to  side.  Clytie  stood  up  and  looked  at 
Baby  wonderingly.  What  could  it  all  mean  ?  And 
then  Baby  began  to  cry,  not  loudly  or  peevishly,  but 
very  quietly,  and  with  a  plaintive  tone.  The  crying 
continued  at  intervals,  ending  each  time  in  a  sad  little 
moan.  Poor  Baby  !  where  is  nurse  ?  and  does  she 


Baby   and   the   Kitten  185 

not  see  you  are  suffering  ?  So  at  least  Clytie 
appeared  to  think. 

A  little  later  in  the  day  the  maid  came  in, 
smoothed  down  the  pillows,  and  tried  to  soothe  Baby 
to  sleep ;  but  he  was  restless,  and  continued  to  cry 
and  moan,  very  softly,  very  pitifully.  The  girl  did 
not  note  the  crimson  cheeks,  the  dry  skin,  and  the 
parched  lips  of  the  child,  and  only  sought  to  put 
him  to  sleep.  And  so  the  time  passed  until  Mamma 
came  to  see  her  little  treasure,  and  found  him  with 
a  raging  fever  and  partially  delirious.  Oh,  the  sud- 
den agony  that  seemed  to  stifle  her  heart !  and  oh, 
the  eternity  of  suspense  until  the  family  doctor  came! 
And  very  grave  the  doctor  looked,  although,  of 
course,  he  sought  to  cheer  the  mother  all  he  could. 
And  then  began  that  struggle  against  the  dread 
enemy  scarlatina,  which  was  seeking  to  consume  the 
tender  life  of  the  babe  ;  a  struggle  in  which  the  life 
of  the  mother  seemed  a  cheap  price  to  pay  for  the 
salvation  of  her  child. 

From  the  first,  Clytie  had  refused  to  leave  the 
crib  ;  and  it  was  soon  found  that  her  presence  seemed 
to  soothe  and  have  a  good  effect  upon  the  tiny  patient. 


i86  Baby  and  the   Kitten 

And  so  she  was  permitted  to  remain.  We  all  know 
what  vitality  the  cat  race  possesses,  and  the  peculiar 
electrical  force  that  seems  stored  in  their  bodies. 
That  something  of  this  vitality  and  power  can  be 
transmitted  to  others,  many  believe ;  and  it  was 
clearly  apparent  in  the  case  of  Baby.  He  plainly  was 
better  when  Clytie  was  with  him,  and  he  seemed 
to  understand  if  she  left  his  side  even  for  a  few 
moments. 

But,  alas !  Baby  grew  worse.  He  did  not  seem 
to  be  in  pain,  but  it  was  plain  that  he  was  being 
consumed  by  the  fever.  And  at  last  the  fatal  night 
came  —  the  night  when  Baby  lay  in  his  mother's 
arms  and  piteously  moaned  his  little  life  away.  His 
dimmed  eyes  saw  not  and  knew  not  those  about  him. 
His  crimsoned  cheek  was  hotter  than  the  scalding 
tears  that  fell  upon  it.  His  parched  lips  and  swollen 
tongue  could  not  call  even  the  loved  name  of  his 
mamma.  But  his  little  hand  clutched,  with  its  de- 
parting strength,  the  soft  silky  fur  upon  the  white 
body  of  his  faithful  Clytie.  And  when  all  was  over, 
when  the  eyes  were  closed  forever,  the  breath  had 
ceased  to  come  and  go,  and  the  little  form  was  stiff- 


Baby   and   the   Kitten  187 

ened  in  death,  the  tiny  fingers  were  still  twined  in 
the  soft  down  that  grew  so  luxuriantly  upon  the 
gentle  body  of  his  little  friend.  And  thus  they  left 
them  :  the  child  in  the  embrace  of  death,  the  other 
caressed  as  by  a  cherub.  Friends  through  life  — 
in  death  they  were  unparted. 

There  is  an  empty  nursery  in  the  home  of  my 
friends,  which  has  remained  untenanted  for  more  than 
a  year.  The  little  shoes  are  placed  carefully  beside 
the  crib.  The  dresses  that  Baby  wore  and  the  play- 
things in  which  he  once  delighted  are  in  their  place ; 
but  the  nursery  is  still.  Did  I  say  the  place  was 
empty  ?  That  is  a  mistake.  It  is  occupied,  and 
almost  constantly.  The  little  crib  contains  a  downy 
bed  of  cotton,  on  which  for  days  and  nights  together 
Clytie  quietly  rests.  She  never  complains,' but  she 
seems  always  sad.  Occasionally  she  will  wander 
about  the  room,  sniffing  at  the  little  garments  once 
worn  by  her  friend,  and  then  return  to  the  crib  dis- 
consolate. Twelve  long  months  have  passed,  but 
Clytie  seldom  offers  to  leave  the  room,  and  whenever 
she  does  go  she  always  faithfully  returns.  And  when 
the  mother  comes  as  to  a  shrine  and  strokes  the 


i88  Baby  and   the   Kitten 

delicate  garments  once  worn  by  her  idol,  when  she 
kisses  with  all  the  passion  of  a  lost  love  the  folds 
which  once  encircled  the  form  she  worshipped,  and 
when  her  tears  flow  with  the  bitterness  of  despair, 
she  always  sees  by  her  side,  silent  but  sad,  the  large 
brown  eyes  and  white  form  of  Baby's  devoted  friend, 
CLYTIE. 


MAXEY 


MAXEY. 


GRACE  GREELEY'S  advice 
to  young  men  to  '  Go  West ' 
has  doubtless  done  much  good, 
but  it  has  also  worked  some 
harm.  Many  young  men, 
fired  with  a  lively  but  indefin- 
ite ambition,  have  rushed  west- 
ward, only  to  be  swallowed  in 
the  maelstrom  of  that  wild, 
hurrying  life.  Some  have  there 
found  their  fortunes  without  losing  their  sense  of 
honor,  while  others  have  gained  material  success  but 
lost  their  spiritual  legacies. 

Fortunately  for  Herbert  Euston,  he  did  not  be- 
long to  the  latter  class.  The  same  spirit  of  natural 
nobility  which  inspired  him  in  boyhood  sustained  him 
in  after  years  ;  and  he  went  to  the  mining  regions 
of  the  West,  well  protected  against  its  moral  malaria. 
He  looked  over  the  field  carefully,  and  finally 


192  Maxey 

determined  to  push  on  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountain 
Range,  and  seek  a  new  mining  region  where  the 
gifts  of  the  earth  awaited  the  coming  of  the  pioneer. 
And  so  he  started  out,  accompanied  only  by  one 
companion — a  diminutive  and  unprepossessing  burro. 

Those  who  have  never  known  the  burro  can 
have  but  a  vague  idea  of  its  real  nature.  It  is  not 
a  mule ;  it  is  not,  strictly  speaking,  a  donkey.  It 
possesses  most  of  the  physical  qualities  of  both  those 
animals,  with  little  of  their  moral  infirmities.  It  is 
strong,  patient,  long-suffering,  and  kind.  It  never 
displays  sudden  emotion  of  any  sort.  It  may  have 
fears,  but  they  are  never  shown.  It  may  cherish 
animosity,  but  it  is  never  manifested.  One's  first 
impulse  at  the  sight  of  a  burro  is  to  laugh.  Further 
acquaintance  arouses  interest,  which  sometimes  de- 
velops, even  in  men  of  brutal  natures,  into  affection. 
An  old  mountain  prospector  will  fight  for  his  pack- 
animal  as  quicklv  as  for  any  other  friend. 

It  was  with  one  of  these  devoted  animals  that 
Herbert  began  his  career  as  a  prospector.  For  more 
than  a  week  they  climbed  the  sides  of  mountains 
and  worked  their  way  through  canons  and  across 


Maxey  193 

mountain  streams,  each  night  finding  them  nearer  the 
setting  sun.  Their  camp  was  usually  in  some  nar- 
row valley,  shut  in  by  rocky  walls,  but  where  good 
water  and  sufficient  vegetation  were  to  be  found. 
Herbert  named  the  burro  '  Maxey,'  possibly  because 
it  was  the  first  name  that  occurred  to  him,  and  possi- 
bly because  it  answered  as  well  as  any  other. 

After  toiling  all  day,  carrying  a  pack  weighing 
several  hundred  pounds,  and  climbing  the  sides  of 
mountains  to  which  human  skill  and  courage  were 
scarcely  equal,  Maxey  would  quietly  graze  while 
Herbert  slept.  At  times  the  moonlight  would  steal 
from  behind  some  giant  peak,  and,  sifting  through 
the  evergreens  upon  its  sides,  light  up  the  valley  in 
strong  contrast  to  the  black  shadows  beyond.  Then 
it  would  disappear  behind  another  mountain,  gilding 
only  the  snowy  peak  and  leaving  the  rest  in  dark- 
ness. At  such  times  the  stillness  seemed  oppres- 
sive and  the  slightest  sound  was  magnified  ten-fold. 
The  noisiest  thing  in  all  that  scene  of  wildness  was 
the  little  snow-fed  brook.  Its  descent  was  steep ; 
and  as  it  sprang  from  rock  to  rock,  or  shot  around 
some  huge  boulder,  it  seemed  to  laugh  for  joy  at  its 


194  Maxey 

freedom,   its    youth,   and    its    hopes    for   the    future. 

In  the  great  city  we  meet  thousands  of  people 
each  day,  until  human  faces  almost  become  an  an- 
noyance. Even  in  smaller  settlements,  compara- 
tively little  is  thought  of  human  or  animal  life.  But 
in  the  vast  solitude  of  the  mountains,  where  Nature 
rules  in  silent  grandeur,  the  spirit  is  drawn  toward 
man,  toward  dumb  companions,  and  toward  God. 

As,  day  after  day,  Herbert  Euston  toiled  through 
the  narrow  passes  and  observed  the  quiet  faithfulness 
of  the  animal  by  his  side,  as  the  absence  of  all  human 
life  caused  him  to  note  more  carefully  the  character 
of  his  dumb  companion,  and  he  realized  the  many 
noble  traits  of  the  quiet  little  animal,  his  heart  was 
warmed  with  a  feeling  of  affection  for  the  devoted 
creature  whose  lot  was  cast  with  his.  At  last  he 
came  into  the  region  beyond  the  range,  and  began 
his  work  of  prospecting.  It  was  a  slow  process : 
days  of  toil,  nights  of  loneliness ;  one  day  cheered 
by  hope,  the  next  doomed  to  disappointment.  But 
during  all  that  time,  Maxey  was  the  same  docile, 
faithful  creature  ;  never  straying  away,  always  ready 
for  any  task,  however  laborious. 


Maxey  195 

It  was  in  the  month  of  September,  near  its  close, 
that  Herbert  and  Maxey  were  working  their  way 
along  the  side  of  a  steep  and  rather  barren  mountain. 
They  would  advance  a  few  steps  and  halt  while  some 
vigorous  strokes  were  given  with  the  pick  into  what 
might  prove  to  be  '  blossom  rock.'  It  seemed  to 
Herbert  he  had  put  his  pick  into  nearly  every  rod  of 
mountain  surface  in  all  that  region ;  but  his  efforts 
had  been  fruitless.  The  mountain  upon  which  he 
stood  was  of  a  most  forbidding  nature.  Much  of 
its  surface  was  of  unusually  hard  quartz,  and  the 
4  indications '  were  anything  but  favorable  for  mineral. 
Herbert  was  picking  away  at  a  crevice  which  seemed 
to  give  a  little  better  promise,  while  Maxey  was  trying 
to  secure  a  little  bunch  of  grass  that  was  growing  in  a 
crevice  just  above  him.  Suddenly  the  animal's  sharp 
little  feet,  which  seemed  fitted  by  Nature  to  take 
hold  on  the  rocks,  slipped ;  and,  turning  quickly, 
Herbert  saw  Maxey  sliding  down  the  steep  descent, 
his  feet  striking  with  marvellous  quickness  and  power 
on  the  flinty  rocks,  but  failing  to  hold.  He  passed 
from  view ;  and  for  a  moment  Herbert  stood  still 
with  horror.  The  next,  he  began  making  his  way 


196  Maxey 

as  rapidly  as  possible  down  the  sides  of  the  cliff,  to 
where,  nearly  forty  feet  below  him,  the  little  animal 
had  lodged  and  now  lay  motionless.  Herbert  reached 
the  spot  and  found  the  faithful  little  creature  uncon- 
scious. At  first  he  feared  it  was  dead  ;  but  the  large 
brown  eyes  opened  slowly,  and  at  once  recognized 
their  friend  and  master.  Herbert  made  an  effort  to 
raise  him,  but  found  one  of  his  feet  had  caught  in  a 
crevice,  and  was  immovable.  It  was  this  that  had 
checked  the  fall  and  prevented  Maxey  from  going 
headlong  into  the  canon  below. 

Herbert  worked  his  way  back  to  the  spot  where 
he  had  left  his  pick.  He  soon  returned  with  it  and 
began  prying  at  the  rock  to  loosen  Maxey's  foot ; 
but  alas!  it  seemed  immovable.  But  what  was  that 
substance  at  the  side,  which  yielded  so  quickly  ? 
Herbert's  eyes  had  been  too  long  looking  for  it  not 
to  recognize  at  once  that  it  was  a  large  vein  of 
mineral.  A  great  thrill  of  joy  came  into  his  heart ; 
but  it  instantly  vanished  at  the  sight  of  the  poor  suf- 
fering creature  before  him.  Gently,  and  as  quickly 
as  possible,  Herbert  released  the  imprisoned  foot, 
found  that  it  was  wrenched  but  not  broken,  and, 


Maxey 

as  rapidly  as  possible  down  the  sides  of  the  cliff,  to 
where,  nearly  forty  feet  below  him,  the  little  animal 
had  lodged  and  now  lay  motionless.  Herbert  reached 
the  spot  and  found  the  faithful  little  creature  uncon- 
scious. At  first  he  feared  it  was  dead  ;  but  the  large 
brown  eyes  opened  slow'  >nce  recognized 

their  friend  and   master.      Herbert  made  an  effort  to 
or"  his  feet  had  caught  in  a 
:ul  was  immovable.      It  was  this  that  had 
checked  the   fall  and  prevented    Maxey   from   going 
headlong  into  the  canon  below. 

^an^aJ  ^  lodge^fcr&SU''^  motionl^  ' 
he  had  kR*UP>yMi   \Uv  )     Ki,  PPrR  ir  a*nd 

began    prying  at  the  rock  to   '  foot; 

but  alas!  it  seemed  immovable.  But  what  was  that 
substance  at  the  side,  which  yielded  so  quickly  ? 
Herbert's  eyes  had  been  too  long  looking  for  it  not 
to  recognize  at  once  that  it  was  a  large  vein  of 
mineral.  'A  great  thrill  of  joy  came  into  his  heart ; 
but  it  instantly  vanished  at  the  sight  of  the  poor  suf- 
fering creature  before  him.  Gently,  and  as  quickly 
as  possible,  Herbert  released  the  imprisoned  foot, 
found  that  it  was  wrenched  but  not  broken,  and, 


Maxey  197 

partly  carrying  and  partly  guiding  his  injured  com- 
panion, succeeded  in  getting  him  back  to  camp. 
Here  for  four  days  he  watched  him  tenderly,  noting 
every  change,  and  at  the  fifth  day  he  was  rejoiced 
to  find  that,  although  still  lame  and  sore,  Maxey  was 
not  permanently  injured,  and  was  on  the  way  to  a 
speedy  recovery.  Then,  and  not  before,  Herbert 
went  up  the  mountain  to  view  the  discovery  which 
Maxey  had  been  the  means  of  revealing  to  him,  and 
in  doing  which  had  so  nearly  lost  his  life.  His  heart 
beat  wildly  as  he  approached  it.  His  arm  seemed 
nerveless  as  he  drove  the  pick  down,  but  the  vein 
of  ore  which  he  soon  laid  bare  was  so  extended,  so 
easily  worked,  and  so  rich,  that  he  hardly  dared  to 
trust  his  senses.  Here  was  wealth  such  as  even  his 
imagination  had  not  pictured.  It  seemed  too  good 
to  be  true. 

Seasons  are  short  in  the  mountains,  and  the  snow 
comes  early.  Herbert  knew  this,  and  realized  he 
had  b\it  few  days  left  in  which  to  return  to  the  settle- 
ments. But  he  became  so  interested  in  the  discovery 
he  had  made,  and  so  anxious  to  learn  its  extent,  that 
he  delayed  his  journey  to  the  last  moment,  and  only 


198  Maxey 

started  when  a  chilling  wind  from  the  north  warned 
him  of  the  coming  winter.  The  first  few  days  they 
made  good  progress,  and  the  summit  of  the  range 
was  left  behind.  On  the  third  day  a  leaden  sky  shut 
down  upon  the  mountains,  seeming  to  shroud  their 
tops  and  extend  even  to  the  distant  plains  beyond. 
Occasionally  a  white  cloud-mass  would  come  sailing 
down  from  the  north,  and  striking  the  precipitous 
sides  of  some  peak  break  into  a  multitude  of  moist 
fluffy  cloudlets.  At  times  these  fleecy  travellers 
would  completely  envelop  Herbert  and  his  toiling 
companion,  and  it  was  only  with  difficulty  that  they 
could  keep  the  trail.  But  the  stay  of  these  white- 
winged  visitors  was  short,  and  they  quickly  passed 
along,  leaving  the  dark  unchanging  sky  above. 

Toward  night  it  began  to  snow  ;  slightly  at  first, 
as  if  only  as  a  quiet  reminder  that  winter  was  on 
its  way.  But  the  flakes,  which  were  small  and  scat- 
tering in  the  beginning,  grew  larger  and  larger  and 
came  in  greater  numbers.  They  would  strike  the 
cold  sides  of  the  mountain,  find  a  little  lodgment, 
and  sift  down  into  the  crevices  and  ravines.  They 
pelted  the  faces  of  the  two  travellers,  as  if  chiding 


Maxey  199 

them  for  their  foolhardiness  in  coming  to  that  unin- 
habited region ;  and  seemed  to  take  especial  delight 
in  forming  drifts  to  obscure  the  trail. 

Herbert  sought  the  shelter  of  an  overhanging 
rock,  and  built  a  fire  of  such  twigs  and  branches 
as  he  could  find.  For  a  few  hours  it  burned 
warmly ;  but  fuel  was  scarce,  and  the  storm  grew 
fiercer.  At  last  the  fire  went  out  entirely,  and  the 
darkness  that  preceded  day  settled  down  upon  them. 
Herbert  could  feel  Maxey  standing  beside  the  rock 
and  shivering  from  the  cold,  while  he  walked  up 
and  down  to  keep  his  own  body  warm.  But  the 
patient  animal  stood  with  his  back  to  the  wind, 
motionless  and  uncomplaining. 

As  soon  as  the  first  signs  of  daylight  made  their 
appearance,  Herbert  and  his  companion  resumed  their 
march.  It  was  a  weary  task.  At  times  the  trail 
would  be  clear,  where  the  winds  had  carried  away 
the  snow,  and  again  it  would  be  entirely  obscured. 
For  hours  the  two  struggled  on,  buffeted  by  the  storm 
and  faint  from  their  exertions.  Herbert  was  a  brave 
man,  but  his  courage  could  not  long  withstand  the 
fury  of  the  elements.  He  grew  weaker  and  weaker. 


200  Maxey 

Finally  he  felt  an  overpowering  desire  to  sleep.  He 
knew  what  this  meant,  but  was  too  exhausted  to 
resist  it.  Even  at  that  desperate  moment,  his  regard 
for  the  little  burro  asserted  itself.  He  loosened  the 
straps  that  held  the  pack,  threw  the  burden  off  into 
the  snow,  and  putting  his  arms  around  the  gentle 
creature's  neck,  bade  him  good-bye  and  turned  him 
loose.  But  Maxey  refused  to  move.  His  master 
tried  to  drive  him  away.  It  was  useless.  Too  ex- 
hausted to  make  further  effort,  Herbert  sank  down 
into  the  snow,  with  a  prayer  on  his  stiffening  lips. 
How  long  he  remained  in  a  stupor  he  did  not 
know ;  but  at  last  he  was  partially  aroused  by  some- 
thing warm  coming  in  contact  with  his  body.  He 
reached  out,  and  in  doing  so  clasped  Maxey,  who 
had  lain  down  and  was  nestling  close  to  him.  The 
warm  body  was  grateful  to  him,  and  he  clung  to  it 
in  a  bewildered  way,  scarcely  realizing  that  it  was 
moving,  that  it  was  on  its  feet,  and  that  he  was 
on  its  back.  For  hours  after  that  he  had  a  dim 
consciousness  of  being  carried,  he  knew  not  where. 
Sometimes  his  fancy  led  him  to  believe  it  was  upon 
the  back  of  an  elephant,  through  some  tiger-haunted 


bbd 


lowering  desire  to  slec 
,,  but  was  too  exhaii 
en  at  that  desperate  moment,  his  regard 
n,i  the  little  burro  asserted  itself.  He  loosened  the 
straps  that  held  the  pack,  threw  the  burden  off  into 
the  snow,  and  putting  his  arms  around  the  gentle 
creature's  neck,  bade  him  good-bye  and  turned  him 
loose.  But  Maxey  refused  to  move.  His  master 
tried  to  drive  him  away.  It  was  useless.  Too  ex- 
hausted to  make  further  effort,  Herbert  sank  down 
into  the  sno  his  stiffening  lips. 

How  d    not 

-  He  looaem-d  tin-  strap*  that  held  the  pack.' 
URAU.V.  m    MAX  K.   KLEPPKR. 

had   lain   dov.  nestling  close  to  him.      The 

warm  body  was  grateful  to  him,  and  he  clung  to  it 

in  a   bewildered   way,  scarcely   realizing  that   it  was 

moving,   that   it    was   on    its    feet,   and   that    he   was 

on   its  back.       For   hours   after  that    he    had   a  dim 

isness  of  being  carried,  he  knew  not  where. 

nes  his  fancy  led  him  to  believe  it  was  upon 

k  of  an  elephant,  through  some  tiger-haunted 


Maxey 


201 


jungle  in  tropical  India.  Again,  he  seemed  to  be 
conveyed  by  a  deerhound,  whose  instincts  scented 
the  trail  unerringly.  But  he  was  too  tired  to  care 
how  or  where  he  was  going,  and  finally  forgot  it  all. 

'  Yer  in   high   luck,  stranger.' 

Herbert  looked  the  speaker  in  the  eye,  gazed 
beyond  to  the  rafters  of  the  cabin  around  him,  and 
tried  to  think. 

'  Where  am   I  ?      What  is  it  ? ' 

'It's  luck,  I  tell  yer,  —  though  some  calls  it 
Providence.  Yer  in  Mountain  Jim's  cabin,  and  all 
right  —  that  is,  if  them  toes  and  fingers  comes  out 
well  under  the  snow  poultice  I'  ve  put  on.' 

4  How   did   I  come  here  ? ' 

4  On  a  everlastin'  little  burro  —  a  kind  of  a  angel 
without  wings,  I  reckon.' 

'Where  is  he?' 

4  Oh,  he  's  all  right.  I  've  got  him  over  in  the 
corner  yonder,  takin'  a  meal  off'n  dried  bunch-grass 
after  his  journey.  Yer  see,  I  was  sittin'  down  playin' 
solitaire,  —  bein'  as  that's  the  only  game  that  don't 
need  a  pardner,  and  pards  is  scarce  around  these 


2O2  Maxey 

diggin's,  —  when  I  heard  a  kind  o'  little  tip-tap  at 
yon  door.  Well,  I  did  n't  notice  it  much,  'cause  this 
has  been  a  old  tearer  of  a  storm,  and  noises  has 
been  pretty  common  fer  so  quiet  a  place ;  then, 
too,  I  was  kind  o'  gone  on  the  game.  Bimeby  I 
heard  it  ag'in  —  nothin'  but  tip -tap.  Then  I 
thought  't  was  the  old  spruce  outside  knockin'  its 
branches  to  pieces  on  the  cabin  ;  and  so  I  went  on 
playin'.  But  the  infernal  thing  kept  tip-tappin',  and 
so  at  last  I  got  up,  kind  o'  mad  like,  and  opened  the 
door,  and  thar  stood  that  durned  little  animal,  quiet 
as  a  lamb,  with  you  on  his  back.  Well,  I  just  invited 
him  right  in,  and  he  come,  you  bet ;  but  I  believe 
he  'd  stood  there  all  night,  tip-tappin'  —  nothin'  more 
—  if  I  hadn't  opened  the  door.' 

A  smile  of  intense  satisfaction  passed  over  Her- 
bert's face,  even  in  hrs  weakened  condition.  Then 
he  fell  asleep  again. 

For  four  days  the  storm  lasted,  making  it  impos- 
sible to  think  of  seeking  the  trail  for  weeks  to  come. 
Herbert's  frostbitten  extremities  gave  him  a  great 
deal  of  annoyance ;  but  as  the  injuries  were  not 
serious,  he  cheerfully  endured  the  suffering. 


Maxey  203 

Mountain  Jim  had  a  fair  store  of  provisions,  but 
it  was  not  inexhaustible.  Herbert  readily  saw  this, 
and  tried  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  situation  ; 
but  the  rough  mountaineer  would  not  listen  to  his 
protestations.  He  insisted  that  Herbert  should  share 
with  him.  But  Herbert  was  worried  about  Maxey. 
The  supply  of  bunch-grass  had  been  used  up  the 
second  day  ;  the  storm  prevented  any  foraging  out- 
side, and  the  patient  animal  showed  the  effects  of 
hunger  in  every  line  of  his  serious  face.  Herbert  at 
length  suggested  to  the  owner  of  the  cabin  that  he 
permit  him  to  take  his  portion  of  hoe-cake  in  the 
form  of  meal,  as  it  would  probably  answer  his  pur- 
pose quite  as  well.  The  bearded  fellow  stopped 
shaking  the  pan  in  which  he  was  frying  bacon,  and 
looked  sharply  at  his  companion  for  a  moment. 

'  I  understand  yer,'  he  said,  '  an'  yer  right.  But 
yer  ain't  goin'  to  play  no  lone  hand,  I  kin  tell  yer. 
If  yer  divide  yer  meal  with  Mixey,  as  you  call  him, 
Mountain  Jim  does  the  same,  and  make  no  mistake.' 

Herbert  protested,  but  it  was  useless  ;  and  there- 
after, for  two  days,  the  little  burro  fared  daintily 
though  sparingly.  One  half  of  each  man's  portion 


204  Maxey 

of  meal  was  set  aside  for  Maxey,  but  was  not  fed 
to  him  until  the  cabin  table  was  laid.  Then  they 
all  dined  together  —  Maxey  from  a  pail  at  the  side 
of  the  room,  and  the  two  bearded  men  from  oppo- 
site sides  of  the  table.  Their  hunger  was  never  sat- 
isfied, but  they  were  cheerful  and  content. 

After  the  snow  stopped  falling,  Mountain  Jim 
tried  to  break  a  path.  It  was  a  hard  and  almost 
hopeless  undertaking.  Meanwhile,  Herbert  gathered 
some  spruce  boughs  for  Maxey,  but,  hungry  as  the 
animal  then  was,  it  seemed  almost  impossible  for  him 
to  live  upon  them.  Then  Herbert  dug  around  in 
the  snow  in  search  of  dry  bunch-grass ;  but  the 
rocky  surface  yielded  very  little,  and  sometimes  only 
a  handful  would  reward  a  hard  day's  search.  The 
days  passed  on,  an  occasional  rift  of  sunshine  melt- 
ing the  snow  in  places,  but  not  enough  to  allow 
travelling.  They  found  that  by  the  most  careful 
economy  their  provisions  would  last  only  a  week 
longer  ;  and  they  determined  to  make  a  bold  strike 
for  the  settlements. 

The  sufferings  of  that  trip  were  almost  too  dread- 
ful for  description.  Manly  fortitude  sustained  the 


Maxey  205 

two  men,  but  their  resolute  patience  was  almost  pet- 
ulance compared  with  the  uncomplaining  endurance 
of  Maxey.  With  but  an  occasional  mouthful  of 
food ;  with  hunger  making  each  bone  daily  more 
visible ;  with  all  the  exertion  of  keeping  the  trail  and 
carrying  the  light  load  of  provisions,  there  was  not 
the  slightest  sign  of  discontent  or  of  yielding  to  their 
misfortunes.  One  might  almost  suppose  such  appar- 
ent fortitude  was  stupidity  ;  but  it  was  not.  Neither 
was  it  stoicism.  It  was  the  same  quality  that  we 
see  so  seldom  among  men,  and  admire  so  greatly 
when  it  is  found.  It  was  courage,  patience,  and 
endurance  —  qualities  none  the  less  noble  and  heroic 
when  possessed  in  such  high  degree  by  a  simple- 
minded  mountain  burro. 

The  last  two  days  of  their  journey  they  were 
absolutely  without  food ;  and  they  certainly  could  not 
have  endured  it  had  they  not  known  by  the  landmarks 
that  their  destination  was  not  far  off.  When  they 
reached  it,  the  reaction  from  the  strain  threw  Herbert 
into  a  fever,  and  for  several  days  he  was  unconscious. 
His  first  care  on  reaching  the  hotel  had  been  to  see 
that  Maxey  was  provided  for ;  but  had  he  failed  to 


206  Maxey 

do  this,  his  continuous  ravings  would  have  suggested 
it  to  those  about  him.  When  the  fever  had  left  him, 
and,  a  mere  skeleton,  he  was  able  to  get  about,  he 
was  overjoyed  to  find  Maxey  fat,  well,  and  contented. 
This  aided  his  convalescence  ;  and  the  quiet  life  he 
led  in  Denver  during  the  remainder  of  the  winter 
restored  him  to  his  former  health,  strength,  and 
activity. 

Many  are  the  safes,  vaults,  and  desks  in  America 
where  shares  of  mining  stock  can  be  found.  These 
shares  are  usually  engraved  in  the  highest  style  of 
the  art,  printed  oh  fine  bond  paper,  and  the  inevit- 
able miner  with  the  pick  can  usually  be  discovered 
among  the  designs.  But  the  really  profitable  mines 
are  very  rare.  More  money  has  probably  gone  into 
Colorado  for  mining  operations  than  ever  came  out 
in  bullion.  And  yet  the  discovery  made  by  Herbert 
Euston,  with  the  help  of  Maxey,  was  the  first  of  that 
series  which  made  Colorado  famous  and  planted  a 
city  in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness.  Herbert  was  far 
too  shrewd  not  to  know  the  importance  of  his  dis- 
covery, but  he  had  no  desire  to  labor  in  its  devel- 


Maxey  207 

opment.  When,  therefore,  he  received  an  offer  for  a 
controlling  interest  in  his  property  which  amounted 
to  an  ample  fortune  for  him,  he  promptly  accepted 
it  and  remained  in  Denver  to  look  after  his  other 
interests.  His  personal  presence,  his  education,  and 
his  genial  ways,  made  him  quickly  popular,  and  soci- 
ety sought  him. 

When  society  seeks  an  individual,  it  is  often 
because  that  individual  does  not  seek  society.  This 
was  the  case  with  Herbert.  The  trying  experiences 
through  which  he  had  passed,  the  solitary  existence 
he  had  led,  and  his  own  temperament,  all  tended 
toward  the  life  of  a  recluse.  He  would  take  long 
walks  on  the  plains  about  the  city,  always  accom- 
panied by  Maxey  ;  and  the  grand  view  of  the  moun- 
tains, the  mildness  of  the  climate,  and  the  peace  of 
his  own  spirit,  gave  him  ample  cause  for  happiness. 
And  yet  he  felt  a  certain  need,  a  something  lacking 
in  his  life.  It  was  such  a  want  as  every  right- 
minded  young  man  feels,  especially  when  living 
among  strangers.  It  was  the  longing  for  home,  for 
love,  for  the  influences  of  domestic  life.  His  was 
not  a  heart  to  surrender  on  sight  to  a  pretty  face ; 


208  Maxey 

he  had  the  appreciation  of  worth  that  told  him  only 
a  beautiful  soul  could  make  him  happy.  And  yet 
his  experience  with  women  was  so  limited  that  he 
could  not  readily  distinguish  between  a  noble  soul 
and  one  which  only  seemed  so.  It  was  not  surpris- 
ing, therefore,  that  when  he  met  a  certain  attractive 
young  lady,  the  daughter  of  a  prominent  merchant, 
whose  beauty  of  face  seemed  slight  compared  with  her 
loveliness  of  spirit,  he  was  at  first  deeply  interested  in 
her,  and  that  this  interest  should  soon  ripen  into  love. 
Outwardly  she  was  charming.  She  had  beauty  and 
accomplishments,  and  was  actively  engaged  in  the 
many  charitable  enterprises  of  society.  Fairs,  festi- 
vals, and  charity  balls,  all  found  in  her  a  ready 
patroness.  Her  social  ambitions  were  subtle  but  un- 
bounded. She  saw  in  Herbert  a  means  to  this  end. 
His  standing,  his  wealth,  his  acquirements,  were  all 
to  her  purpose,  and  his  suit  was  prosperous.  But 
if  the  affair  was  a  deliberate  one  on  her  part,  it  was 
not  so  with  him.  He  loved  the  ideal  as  he  thought 
he  saw  it  revealed  in  her,  and  he  was  very  happy. 
One  charming  afternoon  Herbert  was  walking 
along  the  Platte  River  road,  accompanied  by  his 


Maxey  209 

faithful  Maxey,  whose  slickly  groomed  coat  gave  his 
homely  form  almost  the  appearance  of  beauty.  They 
had  been  enjoying  a  long  stroll,  and  Herbert  was 
talking  to  his  dumb  companion  with  a  confidence 
and  freedom  that  evidently  were  well  bestowed. 
"The  quiet  little  creature  seemed  to  understand  per- 
fectly, and  all  his  actions  betokened  his  confidence 
and  affection.  As  they  came  to  a  turn  in  the  road 
Herbert  saw  a  carriage  approaching.  His  blood 
stirred,  for  he  recognized  the  carriage  and  its  occu- 
pants, one  of  whom  was  his  fiancee.  As  they  drew 
nearer  he  was  puzzled  and  strangely  pained  to  see  a 
peculiar  look  on  her  face,  of  mingled  anger  and  con- 
tempt, as  her  eyes  rested  on  the  burro.  Stepping  to 
one  side  and  lifting  his  hat,  he  bowed  as  the  car- 
riage stopped. 

'  We  are  seeing  the  beauties  of  nature,'  she 
laughingly  declared. 

4  You  have  them  with  you,'  said  Herbert,  gal- 
lantly. 

The  young  ladies  all  smiled  over  this  sally,  and 
the  driver  spoke  to  his  horses. 

4  Of  course   I   shall   see   you   this   evening,'  said 


2io  Maxey 

his  betrothed,  as  they  moved  away ;  and  Herbert 
bowed  an  affirmative. 

As  he  walked  along  he  was  haunted  by  the 
strange  look  on  the  face  he  loved.  What  could  she 
see  repulsive  in  an  animal  possessing  so  many  noble 
qualities  ?  To  Herbert's  eyes  he  seemed  more  than 
human  ;  why  should  he  not  to  others  ?  Was  it  pos- 
sible her  heart  was  not  so  warm  as  he  had  thought 
it  to  be  ?  No ;  he  would  not  believe  it.  She  was 
noble,  charitable,  loving,  and  could  not  but  feel 
generous  toward  the  dependent  creatures  around  her. 
And  with  this  feeling  he  finished  his  walk. 

4  You  cannot  imagine,  my  dear,'  she  said  that 
evening,  '  how  embarrassed  I  was  to-day  at  seeing 
you  by  the  side  of  that  horrid  little  Mexican  donkey. 
The  Forsythe  girls  were  with  me,  and  you  know 
how  swell  they  are,  and  how  particular.  They  asked 
me,  after  we  drove  along,  if  you  chose  your  own 
society.  Now  promise  me,  wo  n't  you,  never  to  be 
seen  with  that  dreadful  animal  again  ? ' 

1  But,'  said  Herbert,  '  you  do  not  know  that 
animal  as  well  as  I  do.  I  owe  both  my  fortune  and 
my  life  to  him.  It  was  through  an  accident,  by 


Maxey  211 

which  he  nearly  lost  his  life,  that  I  found  my  mine. 
I  should  have  perished  in  the  mountains  if  he  had 
not  saved  me.' 

'  I  do  n't  care,'  declared  the  young  lady,  with  a 
flush.  c  He  's  horrid,  and  I  do  n't  want  you  to  keep 
him.' 

'  And  what  would  you  have  me  do  with  him  ? ' 
inquired  Herbert  quietly,  although  his  heart  seemed 
to  stop  beating. 

'Sell  him,  or  give  him  away  —  anything  you  like, 
only  get  rid  of  him  at  once,'  she  replied  with  a  laugh. 
The  tone,  the  laugh,  the  request,  all  jarred  upon 
Herbert.  They  were  a  new  and  unexpected  revela- 
tion of  her  character.  His  heart  sank. 

'  I  cannot  do  what  you  ask,'  he  replied,  after  a 
pause. 

The  blood  mounted  to  her  temples.  She  had 
mistaken  his  gentleness  for  weakness  (a  not  uncom- 
mon blunder  with  the  world),  and  now  saw  her  error. 
But  her  pride  was  aroused,  and  so  she  resorted  to 
softer  measures. 

4  Will  you  not  do  it  for  my  sake  ?  '  And  her 
appealing  eyes  came  caressingly  near  him. 


212  Maxey 

'  I  have  always  tried  to  anticipate  your  wishes,' 
he  replied,  '  but  this  request  is  impossible.  I  cannot 
do  it.' 

He  rose  to  go.  Her  face  was  flushed.  The 
undercurrent  of  his  being  was  agitated,  but  the  sur- 
face was  calm.  She  threw  all  the  power  of  her 
actress  nature  into  one  appealing  look,  but  it  faded 
as  she  saw  in  his  eyes,  not  the  tenderness  of  love, 
but  the  pathos  of  pity. 

The  next  day  Herbert  left  Denver.  No  one 
knew  where  he  had  gone.  The  proprietor  of  the 
hotel  at  which  he  lived  said  he  had  paid  his  bill, 
packed  a  few  things,  and  departed,  taking  with  him 
his  little  burro.  Most  of  his  effects  were  still  at  the 
hotel,  but  he  had  left  no  directions  regarding  them, 
nor  had  he  indicated  where  his  letters  should  be  sent. 
There  was  wonderment  in  Denver  for  some  time, 
but  the  constant  changes  in  the  growing  town  soon 
diverted  attention  to  other  things,  and  the  popular 
young  man  was  forgotten. 

On  the  farther  side  of  the  Great  Snowy  Range, 
where  fertile  little  valleys  are  occasional  and  rocky 


Maxey  213 

canons  and  lonely  peaks  are  on  every  side,  a  mining 
camp  was  lately  established.  The  usual  number 
of  rovers  flocked  in,  camp-life  and  camp-government 
began.  One  of  the  miners,  an  exploring,  ven- 
turesome man,  pushed  farther  on  into  the  interior, 
impelled  by  the  instincts  of  the  fortune-hunter.  In 
the  course  of  a  few  weeks  he  returned,  and  to  all 
inquiries  was  silent.  It  was  noticed  that  he  seemed 
more  thoughtful  than  before  his  exploring  trip,  and 
unsuccessful  attempts  were  made  to  rally  him.  At 
last  he  departed,  and  in  the  course  of  time  reached 
Denver.  There  it  was  the  good  fortune  of  the  writer 
to  meet  him,  and  in  the  course  of  conversation  he 
related  the  following  story  : 

1  After  leaving  the  mining  camp,  I  pushed  on 
through  the  mountains,  determined  to  find  something 
more  valuable  than  the  ordinary  mines  around  me. 
It  was  a  hard  journey.  There  were  no  trails  and  no 
signs  of  human  beings.  I  think  it  was  the  fifth  day, 
when,  as  I  was  going  through  a  rocky  but  picturesque 
canon,  I  saw  what  seemed  to  be  a  cabin  far  up  the 
side,  where  a  little  clump  of  evergreens  almost  hid 
it  from  view.  It  was  the  first  sign  I  had  seen  that 


2i4  Maxey 

human  beings  had  ever  been  in  that  region ;  and  I 
eagerly  climbed  up  to  examine  it.  As  I  came  nearer 
I  saw  it  was  a  neat  and  well-made  cabin,  with  a 
certain  refinement  about  it,  quite  uncommon  at  such 
places.  It  was  quite  deserted.  At  the  door  lay  the 
bones  of  some  animal,  and  on  examination  I  became 
satisfied  that  they  were  those  of  a  burro.  \Vithin, 
on  a  bunk  by  the  side  of  the  cabin,  were  the  remains 
of  a  human  being  long  since  dead,  —  how  long, 
there  was  no  means  of  judging,  but  death  had  surely 
not  come  from  starvation,  for  I  found  remnants  of 
food  in  various  parts  of  the  cabin.  I  searched  the 
cabin  to  find  some  trace  by  which  to  identify  its 
departed  owner,  and  at  last  was  rewarded  by  discov- 
ering a  mouldy  diary.  It  must  have  lain  there  for 
years,  for  the  paper  was  yellow  and  some  of  the 
writing  was  very  indistinct.  I  preserved  it,  however, 
and  it  is  still  in  my  possession.' 

What  it  was  that  caused  me  to  think  of  such  a 
thing,  I  cannot  say,  but  I  felt  that  I  had  once  known 
the  owner  of  that  book. 

'  May   I  see  that  diary  ? '   I  inquired. 

At  first  the  man  refused;  but  I  became  so  earnest 


Maxey  215 

that  at  last  I  was  permitted  to  see  it,  and  there,  on 
the  still  preserved  pages,  were  traced  the  closing 
scenes  of  a  singular  life.  I  copied  them  as  though 
they  were  a  sacred  chronicle,  and  here  reproduce  the 
last  three  days  entire. 

4  February  12. —  It  must  be  fever.  I  have  never 
felt  so  strangely  before.  Quinine  does  not  seem  to 
check  it,  and  my  head  feels  hot  and  heavy.  To 
be  sick,  alone,  and  away  from  possible  help,  is  not 
pleasant.  For  myself  I  do  not  care  so  much.  But 
what  will  become  of  Maxey  if  I  should  be  unable 
to  move?  —  the  dear  fellow  who  has  always  been  so 
patient,  so  devoted  ;  who  has  stood  by  me  when 
other  friends  proved  false.  I  cannot  let  him  suffer. 
I  will  put  a  supply  of  food  where  he  can  get  it  in 
case  I  should  be  taken  really  sick.  I  do  n't  think  it 
is  anything  serious,  but  it  is  well  to  provide  ahead.' 

'  February  fj. —  My  suspicions  are  correct.  It 
is  fever.  Well,  God's  will  be  done.  I  have  no 
fears,  no  regrets  ;  but  what  will  poor  Maxey  do  ? 
He  came  out  here  with  me  willingly  ;  he  has  never 
shown  the  slightest  trace  of  evil  ;  he  has  a  true 
heart,  and,  in  spite  of  his  apparent  stupidity,  he  is 


216  Maxey 

sensible  and  shrewd.  But  his  devotion  is  touching. 
I  do  not  think  I  could  drive  him  away  from  here, 
and  I  can  tell  by  the  way  he  looks  at  me  he  believes 
I  never  will  try  to  do  so.' 

1  February  /./. —  Valentine's  Day,  and  I  am  grow- 
ing hotter  and  weaker  every  hour.  I  know  I  shall 
soon  lose  my  reason,  and  without  care  I  cannot  live. 
If  I  should  die,  and  anyone  should  come  and  find 
me  here,  let  my  last  request  be  heeded.  Take  care 
of  my  burro.  He  will  live,  and  I  will  repay  all 
care.  This  is  my  last  will  and  testament.  Money, 
stocks,  and  bonds,  in  the  vault  of  the  Colorado  Na- 
tional Bank,  Denver.  All  these  go  to  the  man  who 
finds  and  cares  for  my  poor  burro  —  the  sharer  of 
my  good  and  evil  fortune,  devoted  to  me  during  life 
and  faithful  unto  death,  my  friend  and  comrade  — 
MAXEY.' 


DANIEL  PRATT 


DANIEL  PRATT. 


EW  people  ventured  out  during 
the  day  of  the  great  New 
York  blizzard  in  1888,  and 
most  of  those  who  did  found 
cause  for  regret.  I  tried  to 
walk  a  few  blocks  up  Fifth 
Avenue,  and  succeeded  in 
reaching  Forty  -  second  Street, 
when  my  strength  and  courage 

_^ ^  failed  me.  I  turned  back, 
and  was  working  my  way  along  the  shelter  of  the 
big  reservoir,  when  I  heard  an  angry  voice  pitched 
in  the  harshest  of  tones.  I  looked  across  the  avenue, 
and  saw  a  man  kicking  vigorously  and  swinging  his 
arms  like  a  wind-mill  at  a  large  and  apparently  strong 
dog.  The  creature  turned  and  ran,  every  few  steps 
stopping  to  look  back,  and  each  time  meeting  with 
the  same  fierce  gestures.  I  did  not  think  it  possible 
that  anyone  could  abandon  an  animal  in  such  a 


220  Daniel   Pratt 

storm,  and  so  I  made  my  way  across  the  avenue  to 
where  the  man  was  standing. 

4  Is  there  anything  the  matter  ?  '   I  inquired. 

The  man,  who  was  well  dressed,  looked  at  me 
with  a  mind-your-own-business  expression,  and  went 
on  shaking  his  fists  at  the  dog. 

'Has  the  dog  stolen  anything?'  I  again  inquired. 

4  No,  he  has  not,'  was  the  reply,  4  but  I  'm  not 
going  to  have  him  following  me  around  all  the 
while,  besides  costing  me  a  small  fortune  to  feed 
him.' 

'  And  so  you  are  trying  to  get  rid  of  him,  are 
you  ? ' 

1  That 's  it  exactly,'  he  replied  ;  '  he  can  go  to 
the  devil.' 

4  He  will  unquestionably  meet  you  there,'  I  said, 
with  a  strong  effort  to  control  myself. 

The  man  glared  at  me  fiercely,  but  the  coward 
instinct  which  exists  in  all  cruel  natures  checked  his 
bravado,  and  his  eyes  fell. 

4  I  advise  you  to  return  home  and  pray  for 
mercy ;  you  will  need  it  soon  enough,'  I  exclaimed. 
4  As  for  this  poor  creature  which  the  Almighty  has 


. 

trust r 

point    < 

and  to' 

which 

down   the  we    wen 

animal    fac 

break  i ; 

where  I  pic 

he  c<&HtjflW!ft  watstyn&j.me  with  an  earnest  \rt 

•T,  look.' 

1  ne  new  d< 

DRAWIM.  BV  MAX  F.  KLEPHKK. 
a   dog   witt.  :    the 

St.   Bernard 

almost    . 

disposition  . 

an  animal  BO  'or  human  r 

word   or  a  ok  would 

instantly.  eemed  too   i 

for  the  on<  friendly  to  i 

everything  as 

fidence. 


Daniel   Pratt  221 

entrusted  to  your  care,  I  will  see  to  him,'  and  turning 
on  my  heel  I  approached  the  dog. 

He  was  watching  me  with  an  earnest  yet  dis- 
trustful look.  I  spoke  to  him  kindly,  touched  the 
point  of  his  nose  with  my  glove,  patted  his  head 
and  told  him  to  follow  me.  The  look  of  gratitude 
which  came  into  his  eyes  was  touching.  And  so 
down  the  avenue  through  the  drifts  we  went,  the 
animal  facing  the  worst  blasts  bravely  and  often 
breaking  a  path  for  me.  We  soon  reached  home, 
where  I  provided  comfortable  quarters  for  him,  which 
he  contentedly  accepted. 

The  new  dog  was  a  study.  I  could  see  he  was 
a  dog  without  a  pedigree  ;  that  the  blood  of  the 
St.  Bernard  was  so  diluted  with  the  alien  as  to  be 
almost  past  recognition.  But  I  also  saw  that  his 
disposition  and  character  were  good.  I  never  knew 
an  animal  so  hungry  for  human  kindness.  A  gentle 
word  or  a  friendly  look  would  win  his  confidence 
instantly.  Nothing  seemed  too  hard  for  him  to  do 
for  the  one  who  was  friendly  to  him.  He  accepted 
everything  as  right  from  those  in  whom  he  had  con- 
fidence. And  he  had  confidence  in  everyone  who 


222  Daniel   Pratt 

was  kind.  He  seemed  to  believe  thoroughly  in  the 
goodness  of  mankind,  and  yet  one  could  perceive 
he  had  seen  more  of  harshness  and  cruelty  than  of 
kindness.  Men,  boys,  and  women,  and  his  fellow 
animals  —  all  were  his  friends.  His  nature  seemed 
cosmopolitan,  but  it  was  sincere. 

He  had  been  with  me  but  a  few  weeks,  when 
one  day  I  missed  him.  Several  days  passed,  and 
he  did  not  appear.  I  visited  the  pound,  but  he  was 
not  there.  Then  I  gave  him  up  as  lost.  About  a 
fortnight  afterwards  he  came  into  my  room,  looking 
most  woe-begone.  His  coat  was  ruffled,  his  eyes 
were  downcast,  and  the  end  of  his  bushy  tail  was 
decorated  with  a  string  to  which  had  evidently  been 
tied  that  favorite  plaything  of  a  certain  class  of  boy- 
hood—  a  tin  can.  It  was  plain  that  he  expected  a 
harsh  lecture ;  but  he  received  words  of  sympathy. 
At  first  he  was  astonished,  and  then  his  gratitude 
knew  no  bounds.  He  licked  my  hand,  fawned  about 
me,  and  tried  in  every  way  to  tell  me  how  thankful 
and  happy  he  was.  We  made  him  comfortable 
again,  and  he  appeared  perfectly  contented  for  a  few 
more  weeks.  But  he  seemed  to  be  born  to  misfor- 


Daniel   Pratt  223 

tune.  The  very  goodness  of  his  heart  made  people 
impose  upon  him — just  as  we  often  find  it  to  be 
the  case  in  human  life.  I  have  seen  men  stop  on 
the  street  and  speak  enticingly  to  him,  and  as  soon 
as  he  came  near  enough  kick  at  him  savagely.  He 
would  naturally  recoil  under  such  treatment ;  but  if 
the  same  man  who  had  just  kicked  him  spoke  again 
in  a  kind  manner,  he  would  come  up  to  him  just  as 
readily  as  before.  Under  all  the  forms  of  abuse  to 
which  he  was  subjected,  I  never  heard  him  whine, 
cry,  or  in  any  way  complain. 

When  the  time  for  summering  came,  I  took 
Daniel  (I  had  named  him  Daniel  Pratt,  because  he 
seemed  to  be  a  "great  American  traveller")  with 
me  to  the  country.  He  enjoyed  it.  Every  farmer 
and  every  boy  for  miles  around  our  resort  knew 
Daniel  and  was  on  speaking  terms  with  him.  He 
would  be  absent  from  the  house  for  two  or  three 
days  at  a  time,  and  then  suddenly  appear  in  his  usual 
quiet  and  friendly  fashion. 

One  day  I  was  taking  a  long  stroll,  and  returned 
by  way  of  a  beautiful  lake,  which,  hemmed  in  by 
mountains,  seemed  like  a  diamond  in  an  emerald 


224  Daniel    Pratt 

cluster.  I  could  hear  loud  boyish  shouts  of  laughter 
long  before  I  reached  the  lake ;  and  when  at  last 
the  sheet  of  water  came  into  view,  I  could  see  a 
number  of  boys  playing  with  Daniel  on  the  bank 
opposite  to  where  I  stood.  Daniel  was  in  the  water, 
where  he  had  evidently  gone  to  retrieve  a  stick  that 
one  of  the  boys  had  thrown  in,  and  was  now  swim- 
ming back  toward  the  land.  But  whenever  he  ap- 
proached the  shore  he  was  pelted  with  a  shower  of 
sticks  and  stones,  and  in  his  attempts  to  avoid  them 
he  was  forced  back  into  the  lake  again.  Just  as  I 
reached  the  bank  I  saw  a  large  stone  thrown  by  a 
big  boy  strike  Daniel  on  the  head,  and  he  sank  be- 
neath the  water.  The  sight  naturally  aroused  my 
indignation.  I  shouted  to  the  boys,  and  they  looked 
around  quickly.  As  they  did  so,  one  of  them  missed 
his  footing,  fell  headlong  into  the  lake,  and  was 
instantly  lost  to  sight.  I  knew  the  water  was  very 
deep  where  he  had  fallen  in,  and  I  started  to  run 
around  the  little  lake  to  help  him. 

Although  Daniel  must  have  been  dazed  by  the 
crushing  blow  he  had  received,  yet  a  moment  later 
he  seemed  to  realize  the  situation  as  clearly  as  I  did. 


Daniel   Pratt  225 

I  saw  him  look  at  the  spot  where  the  boy  had  dis- 
appeared, and  then  intently  scan  the  water  for  his 
re-appearance.  There  was  a  sudden  ripple  on  the 
surface,  and  then  a  matted  head  of  hair  and  a  strug- 
gling pair  of  arms  appeared.  Daniel  did  not  delay  an 
instant.  I  saw  him  swim  quickly  to  the  boy,  seize 
his  coat  collar  at  the  back  of  the  neck,  and  with 
strong  strokes  try  to  tow  him  to  the  land.  It  was 
a  hopeless  effort ;  for  the  boy,  who  was  large,  could 
not  swim,  and  his  weight  was  like  lead  to  the  sturdy 
dog  that  was  trying  to  sustain  it.  Then  both  dog  and 
boy  sank  beneath  the  surface.  My  heart  sank  with 
them.  In  a  moment  more  I  had  reached  the  spot, 
but  the  surface  of  the  lake  was  calm,  excepting  only 
the  ripples  which  played  about  the  place  where  both 
boy  and  dog  had  gone  down  together.  It  seemed 
to  me  I  counted  the  seconds,  and  that  each  one 
grew  longer.  The  frightened  boys  stood  huddled  on 
the  bank,  mute  and  pale.  The  air  itself  seemed 
suddenly  stilled,  and  even  the  trees  appeared  to  cease 
their  rustling.  During  that  frightful  period  of  sus- 
pense, I  looked  earnestly  at  the  place  where  the 
boy  and  dog  had  sunk ;  then  my  eyes  swept  nearer 

15 


226  Daniel   Pratt 

shore.  Something  moving  caught  my  gaze,  and 
there,  down  in  the  depths  of  the  clear  blue  lake,  I 
saw  a  struggling  object  which  seemed  to  come 
nearer.  Another  second  and  the  surface  was  broken, 
and  the  head  of  the  dog,  still  grimly  holding  his 
charge,  came  into  view.  Though  possessing  no  ped- 
igree, no  royal  blood,  the  noble  fellow  had  remained 
faithful  to  his  duty,  to  save  the  life  of  even  one  who 
had  abused  him.  He  had  not  only  held  fast  to  his 
charge,  but  had  brought  him  ten  feet  nearer  shore, 
so  that  he  was  within  reach  of  help.  I  sprang  into 
the  water,  seized  the  senseless  lad  and  motioned 
Daniel  to  the  land.  He  relinquished  his  hold,  but  he 
would  not  leave  the  water  until  I  had  safely  landed 
the  drowning  boy. 

It  was  hard  work  reviving  the  lad.  He  had 
been  so  long  in  the  lake,  and  had  swallowed  so  much 
water,  it  seemed  as  though  he  never  would  breathe 
again ;  but  I  finally  succeeded  in  restoring  him  to 
consciousness.  During  all  that  time,  Daniel,  drip- 
ping with  water,  stood  looking  on,  as  anxious  as  any 
of  the  boy's  companions;  and  when  at  last  he  saw  the 
lad's  eyes  open,  he  seemed  beside  himself  with  joy. 


Daniel   Pratt  227 

The  father  of  the  boy  was  profuse  in  his  thanks  to 
me  for  saving  the  life  of  his  son  j  but  I  told  him  his 
thanks  were  due  to  Daniel,  not  to  me.  He  declared 
that  such  a  dog  deserved  a  medal ;  but  I  am  sorry  to 
relate  that  poor  Daniel  never  received  any  further 
acknowledgement  or  kindness  from  the  father. 

The  uncertainty  which  always  attached  to  this 
large-hearted  dog  was  often  perplexing.  While  on 
my  way  back  to  the  city  from  the  country,  I  missed 
him.  This  had  occurred  so  often  that  I  looked  upon 
it  as  a  thing  to  be  expected.  Several  weeks  passed, 
when  one  day  a  friend  called  and  informed  me  that 
he  had  seen  my  dog  Daniel  in  Montreal.  The  state- 
ment seemed  incredible,  but  I  wrote  a  friend  in  that 
city  to  have  a  search  made,  and  eventually  I  received 
the  dog  safely  by  express.  He  was  rejoiced  to  see 
me  once  more,  but  every  few  days  he  would  be 
coaxed  away  by  kindness.  My  friend  in  Montreal 
learned  that  a  man  of  that  city,  who  was  travelling, 
had  met  Daniel,  had  spoken  kindly  to  him,  and  so 
completely  had  the  affectionate  fellow  been  won  by 
the  gentleness  shown  him  that  he  had  gone  with  the 
man  to  Canada. 


228  Daniel   Pratt 


A  little  lame  boy — a  mite  of  a  fellow,  whose 
name  even  to  this  day  I  do  not  know  —  came  by 
my  house  daily,  probably  on  his  way  to  school.  He 
hobbled  along  on  crutches,  and  seemed  very  much 
afraid  of  the  big  dog  that  he  saw  out  in  my  yard. 
I  observed  that  Daniel  watched  the  little  chap  with 
great  interest,  and  finally  one  day  went  up  to  him, 
wagging  his  tail  meanwhile.  The  little  boy  turned 
pale  with  fear.  There  they  stood  eyeing  one  another. 
At  last  Daniel  put  his  nose  against  the  child's  hand 
where  it  was  holding  the  crutch,  and  licked  it  as  if 
with  sympathy.  The  boy  seemed  to  understand  that 
this  meant  kindness  ;  and  so  he  patted  Daniel's  head 
with  his  other  hand.  Such  was  the  beginning  of 
what  proved  a  true  and  eventually  a  tragic  friendship. 
The  lame  boy  evidently  had  few  playmates.  The 
other  boys,  who  romped  and  shouted,  could  not  come 
down  to  the  quiet  ways  of  the  little  invalid.  To 
find  a  companion  and  a  playmate  in  the  form  of  a 
large  dog  was  certainly  unexpected,  but  was  just  what 
he  desired.  He  showed  his  joy  in  all  his  actions. 
So  did  Daniel.  I  have  seldom  seen  anything  more 
remarkable  than  the  friendship  of  those  two  creatures. 


Daniel   Pratt  229 

The  dog  would  watch  each  morning  at  the  proper 
time  for  the  boy's  appearance.  As  soon  as  the  little 
fellow  came  in  sight,  Daniel  would  run  to  meet  him 
with  a  speed  and  force  that  almost  seemed  to  put  the 
child's  life  in  danger.  But  the  boy  always  stood  firm, 
smiling  pleasantly,  while  Daniel  would  pull  up  short 
just  in  time  to  prevent  a  collision.  Then  the  child 
would  talk  to  the  dog,  pat  his  head  and  stroke  his 
ears,  and  off  they  would  go  together  as  happy  as  two 
friends  could  be. 

Daniel  appeared  always  anxious  to  help  the  little 
fellow,  but  at  first  it  seemed  difficult  to  do  so.  One 
day,  however,  as  the  boy  stood  leaning  on  Daniel, 
a  sudden  thought  seemed  to  come  to  the  dog.  He 
turned  and  began  to  pull  gently  at  one  of  the  crutches. 
The  child,  thinking  it  play,  feebly  tried  to  resist ; 
but  Daniel  insisted  upon  having  the  crutch.  He 
then  pushed  his  big  body  against  the  boy,  who  was 
almost  forced  to  recline  upon  the  dog's  back  ;  when 
off  trotted  Daniel  with  his  burden,  as  proud  as  a  king. 
The  little  fellow  could  hardly  understand  it  at  first, 
but  it  seemed  great  fun,  and  he  was  certainly  getting 
over  the  ground  faster  than  he  ever  had  done  with 


230  Daniel   Pratt 

his  crutches.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  service 
into  which  Daniel  voluntarily  entered.  The  clock 
could  hardly  be  more  accurate  than  he  was  each  day 
when  he  started  off  to  take  the  boy  to  school.  I 
knew  the  weight  of  the  child  upon  his  back  was  no 
trifle,  but  I  never  saw  him  flinch  for  a  moment, 
although  I  have  seen  him  lie  in  the  shade  and  rest 
all  day  from  the  fatigue  which  the  effort  had  occa- 
sioned. This,  however,  never  prevented  his  going 
promptly  to  carry  his  charge  home  as  soon  as  school 
was  dismissed. 

This  friendship  with  the  apparently  friendless 
child  kept  Daniel  from  wandering  away  with  the 
people  who  showed  him  kindness.  He  was  just  as 
hungry  for  kind  words  and  caresses  as  ever ;  but 
he  seemed  to  feel  that  he  now  had  a  duty  to  per- 
form, and  he  never  neglected  it.  I  had  long  made 
it  my  practice  not  to  interfere  with  his  actions,  for, 
aside  from  his  habit  of  wandering  away,  his  conduct 
was  blameless.  He  was  therefore  at  liberty  to  help 
the  lame  boy  as  much  as  he  chose,  and  right  royally 
did  he  do  it. 

One  night  I  had  been  working  at  my  desk  until 


Daniel   Pratt  231 

midnight,  although  it  seemed  but  little  more  than 
nine  o'clock.  I  got  up,  closed  the  desk,  and  deter- 
mined to  retire ;  but  my  mind  was  in  too  active  a 
condition  for  sleep.  A  stroll  of  a  mile  in  the  cool 
night  air  would  settle  matters,  I  thought ;  and  so  I 
took  my  coat  and  hat  and  started  out.  Daniel's 
kennel  was  in  the  back  yard,  and  as  soon  as  he  heard 
me  open  the  door  he  came  bounding  forward.  I 
spoke  to  him,  patted  his  head,  and  we  walked  up 
the  street  together.  My  thoughts  were  dancing  all 
over  the  surface  of  my  brain,  and  try  as  I  might  I 
could  not  divert  them. 

There  were  but  few  people  on  the  streets,  and 
they  seemed  belated  and  to  be  hurrying  homeward. 
As  I  walked  along,  I  heard  the  first  stroke  of  the 
fire-bell.  Such  sounds  seldom  affect  me.  I  have 
seen  the  Western  plains  swept  by  a  fire  as  by  a 
whirlwind.  I  saw  the  great  fire  of  Chicago,  even 
before  the  watchman  on  guard  in  his  tower  dis- 
covered it ;  and  all  through  that  terrible  night  I  wit- 
nessed the  sights  and  heard  the  sounds  which  its 
horror  occasioned.  All  minor  conflagrations  have 
never  aroused  me  since  then,  except  only  where 


232  Daniel   Pratt 

human  or  animal  life  were  concerned.  But  as  I 
heard  the  alarm  this  night  and  saw  the  flames  a  few 
squares  away,  I  felt  that  the  fire  might  prove  the 
right  diversion  for  me,  and  quiet  the  riot  in  my  head. 
I  therefore  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  flames.  At 
the  next  corner  the  engines  came  tearing  by. 

During  all  this  time  Daniel  walked  quietly  by 
my  side,  and  even  as  we  drew  nearer  the  fire  he  did 
not  seem  excited ;  but  the  moment  we  came  in  sight 
of  the  burning  building,  he  raised  his  voice  with  a 
bay  of  agony  and  dashed  away  from  me  toward  the 
crowd.  I  could  not  understand  his  conduct.  When 
I  reached  the  spot  I  saw  him  rushing  about  among 
the  people,  looking  here  and  there,  and  scenting 
every  footmark.  Then  he  ran  up  to  me,  and,  seiz- 
ing my  coat,  seemed  to  urge  me  to  some  action, 
which  I  could  not  understand.  At  that  moment  the 
firemen  came  out  of  the  building  —  which  was  a 
tenement  —  bringing  some  people  who  had  been 
overcome  by  the  smoke,  but  who  fortunately  were 
rescued  in  time.  Daniel  ran  up  to  them,  looked  at 
each  one,  and  came  back  to  me  howling  in  agony. 
'  What 's  the  matter,  old  fellow  ? '  I  inquired ;  but 


Daniel   seemed    »• 

•  . 

.bension  \va 
him.      Then    he 
panting   face   near 
longing,  in    his  dc<  p 
noble  those  great 

Ala^  sluv  some-thing  emerging  from  the  smoke  that 
the   la  pourinjr  in  domls  from  the  clooru 

ment,  and    theiPn  \!  \x  K  KLLPPER. 

burning  building. 
I    Wa 

,  my  eyes  *: 

ued. 
It  P 

me  an  hour,  when  I  I    •* 
the  smoke  that  was  pourini 
way  at  which  I  ga/rd.      1 
gathered   about   it,  and   for 


Daniel   Pratt  233 

Daniel  seemed  still  more  frantic  with  excitement. 
He  tugged  at  my  coat,  he  licked  my  hand,  and  sought 
in  every  way  to  pull  me  toward  the  burning  building; 
but  although  my  brain  was  just  then  so  active,  my 
comprehension  was  dull  and  I  could  not  understand 
him.  Then  he  sprang  up  against  my  chest,  his 
panting  face  near  mine,  and  a  world  of  agony,  of 
longing,  in  his  deep  brown  eyes.  How  fine,  how 
noble  those  great  eyes  were,  as  even  in  the  confu- 
sion of  the  moment  I  could  not  help  observing  them. 
Alas  !  how  little  did  I  realize  I  was  seeing  them  for 
the  last  time.  He  gazed  earnestly  at  me  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  turned  and  ran  headlong  into  the 
burning  building. 

I  was  amazed.  Did  the  dog  intend  suicide  ? 
Was  he  crazed  by  the  fire,  as  horses  sometimes  are  ? 
I  stood  motionless,  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  door  through 
which  Daniel  had  disappeared. 

It  may  have  been  five  minutes,  but  it  seemed  to 
me  an  hour,  when  I  saw  something  emerging  from 
the  smoke  that  was  pouring  in  clouds  from  the  door- 
way at  which  I  gazed.  The  firemen  came  up  and 
gathered  about  it,  and  for  a  moment  stopped  their 


234  Daniel   Pratt 

fight  with  the  flames.  Then  I  saw  a  strong  fireman 
lift  a  limp  figure  and  carry  it  toward  the  group  of 
people  who  had  just  been  rescued  ;  and  then  I  real- 
ized it  all.  The  senseless  creature  they  were  carrying 
was  the  lame  boy  —  Daniel's  friend  —  saved  from 
death  by  the  one  he  loved. 

I  pushed  my  way  through  the  crowd,  and  there 
on  the  pavement,  breathing  hard  in  agony,  but  utter- 
ing no  sound,  with  every  particle  of  hair  burned  from 
his  body,  and  his  eyes  closed,  lay  Daniel  —  noble, 
devoted  Daniel.  I  spoke  to  him,  and  he  heard  me ; 
but  he  was  too  weak  even  to  raise  his  head. 

I  have  many  pets  around  my  house,  for  I  love 
animals  next  to  men.  I  also  have  many  visitors, 
and  take  pleasure  in  showing  them  these  pets.  My 
friends  often  speak  of  the  peculiar  creatures  they  see 
about  my  home  —  as,  for  example,  the  screech-owl 
(who  punctuates  the  night  as  regularly  as  a  cuckoo 
clock,  and  more  noisily) ;  but  what  none  of  them 
seem  quite  able  to  understand  is  why  I  keep  with 
such  special  care  a  blind,  hairless  dog,  covered  with 
scars,  and  able  only  to  limp  feebly  about.  I  have 
never  cared  to  explain  my  reasons  to  anyone.  But 


Daniel   Pratt  235 

now  that  I  have  written  this  story,  all  will  under- 
stand that  the  repulsive  looking  dog  that  lives  in  my 
house,  and  whose  nature  is  still  as  kind  and  gentle 
as  that  of  a  dove  —  who  loves  human  sympathy,  who 
never  complains,  and  who  will  to-day,  blind  as  he  is, 
do  any  human  being  a  kindness  —  is  none  other  than 
the  faithful,  loving,  self-sacrificing  DANIEL  PRATT. 


A  KINDERGARTEN  EXPERIMENT 


A    KINDERGARTEN    EXPERIMENT. 


EADER,  do  you  love  birds? 
I  do  not  ask  if  you  love  to 
see  them  on  the  lawn  or  in 
the  trees,  for  it  is  fair  to 
assume  that  all  refined  per- 
sons love  them  in  that  way; 
but  have  you  ever  become 
really  attached  to  them  and 
learned  to  look  upon  them 
as  companions  ?  If  so,  let 
me  hope  you  understood  and  appreciated  their  deli- 
cacy, their  sensitiveness,  and  their  many  tender  qual- 
ities, better  than  I  once  did.- 

I  lived  in  a  city  'flat';  still  worse,  it  was  a 
bachelor's  *  flat.'  You  will  naturally  say  that  this 
was  a  poor  place  for  birds ;  and  I  quite  agree  with 
the  sentiment.  But  if  any  earthly  locality  needs 
cheering,  demands  beautifying  and  brightening,  surely 
it  is  the  domicile  of  the  man  who  lives  alone.  Feel- 
ing something  of  this  need,  I  secured  as  companions 


240       A  Kindergarten  Experiment 

a  singing  canary  and  a  beautiful  bullfinch.  They 
seemed  very  bright  and  apparently  happy  in  their  new 
brass  cages  —  quite  aristocratic,  in  fact,  —  although 
I  fancied  now  and  then  I  could  detect  a  note  in  their 
voices  that  was  not  altogether  one  of  contentment. 
But  we  got  along  quite  well  together.  My  man- 
servant was  attentive  enough  to  them,  and  I  supple- 
mented his  efforts  by  little  kindnesses  that  they 
apparently  appreciated.  And  yet  something  seemed 
to  be  not  quite  right  with  them.  To  this  day  I 
cannot  tell  positively  what  it  was,  and  only  assume 
it  was  simply  the  want  of  freedom. 

Cage  life  is  necessarily  an  irksome,  monotonous 
existence.  Carniverous  animals  chafe  under  it,  even 
when  completely  tamed.  Why,  then,  should  not 
those  winged  creatures  whose  very  being  is  freedom 
and  blitheness,  who  dwell  in  the  air  more  than  on 
the  earth,  and  whose  free  nature  cannot  brook  con- 
finement, have  all  the  freedom  their  Creator  de- 
signed ?  I  can  see  those  birds  now,  as  they  sat  upon 
their  perches  or  hopped  about  the  cages,  trying  hard 
to  be  happy,  but  with  a  cloud  of  unrest  about  them 
all  the  while.  Poor  little  things  ! 


A  Kindergarten  Experiment       241 

The  habit  of  owning  pets,  like  most  habits, 
seems  to  be  progressive.  I  owned  two  birds,  and 
longed  for  more.  But  I  was  not  certain  just  what 
to  procure.  I  did  not  care  for  a  parrot  —  a  vulgar 
and  garrulous  creature,  whose  education,  both  moral 
and  intellectual,  requires  almost  more  care  than  that 
of  a  child ;  a  cockatoo  seemed  little  better,  except 
that  he  is  less  gaudy  ;  while  a  mocking-bird  becomes 
in  time  altogether  too  confidential.  And  so  I  did 
not  extend  the  confines  of  my  aviary. 

It  was  while  in  this  state  of  mind  that  I  one 
evening  attended  the  chicken-show  at  Madison 
Square  Garden.  I  found  it  very  interesting.  What 
kings  those  roosters  were,  and  how  proud  and  defiant ! 
And  how  docile  and  domestic  the  little  hens  seemed, 
even  in  such  a  strange  and  public  place !  All  of 
these  creatures  were  busy  and  alert,  doing  their  best 
to  entertain  the  company,  although  it  was  far  beyond 
their  usual  hour  for  retiring.  At  last  I  came  to  a 
spot  that  appeared  to  possess  special  attractiveness. 
It  would  be  hard  to  say  whether  it  most  resembled 
a  hospital,  a  foundry,  or  an  asylum.  It  was  the 
incubator.  I  looked  through  the  windows  on  the 


242       A  Kindergarten  Experiment 

side,  at  the  nicely  placed  (I  had  almost  said  laid)  rows 
of  eggs,  and  wondered  how  many  of  them  would 
ever  become  animate.  Two  young  fellows  at  my 
side  were  laying  wagers  on  the  same  problem  ;  they 
were  evidently  of  that  class  who  would  lay  odds 
upon  anything,  even  whether  or  not  the  sun  would 
rise  the  following  morning. 

While  I  was  still  looking,  something  seemed  to 
be  taking  place  in  one  of  the  eggs.  A  tiny  hole  in 
the  shell  was  visible.  It  enlarged,  and  I  could  see 
a  small  beak  working  industriously  for  freedom,  and 
breaking  away  the  shell  that  confined  it.  If  I  was 
interested  before,  I  became  absorbed  then.  Not  a 
motion  escaped  me.  Little  by  little  the  prison  walls 
gave  way,  and  finally  there  appeared  a  funny,  fluffy 
little  head,  whose  black  eyes  blinked  wonderingly  at 
the  world.  I  welcomed  the  little  stranger  most  cor- 
dially ;  but  doubtless  the  glass  which  separated  us 
prevented  my  congratulations  from  reaching  him. 
However,  he  came  forth  successfully,  looked  around, 
and  attempted  to  navigate  the  billowy  sea  of  eggs 
that  surrounded  him.  The  attempt  was  a  failure. 


A  Kindergarten  Experiment       243 

The  falls  he  received  would  have  disheartened  a  more 
mature  athlete  than  he;  and  yet  he  did  not  seem  to 
be  at  all  discouraged  —  possibly  just  because  he  was 
so  inexperienced.  I  felt  sorry  for  the  poor  little  chap, 
and  suggested  to  his  keeper  —  or  guardian,  or  nurse, 
I  hardly  know  which,  —  that  he  might  perhaps  be 
emancipated  to  advantage.  The  look  I  received  in 
response  conveyed  to  me  that  I  was  not  an  expert  in 
chicken-raising.  But  I  held  my  ground,  and  waited. 
It  was  not  long  before  another  agitation  occurred  in 
another  shell-prison.  This  second  aspirant  for  free- 
dom had  a  harder  time  than  his  companion,  but  I 
was  glad  to  see  that  he  did  not  get  discouraged,  and 
that  eventually  he  succeeded  in  gaining  his  liberty. 
Then  I  approached  the  keeper  on  another  tack. 
How  much  would  he  take  for  those  two  foundlings? 
Having  been  a  witness  of  their  courageous  entry  into 
a  cold  world,  I  naturally  felt  something  of  a  god- 
father's interest  in  their  welfare.  The  man's  manner 
changed  at  once,  and  I  found  him  ready  to  bargain. 
And  so,  without  waiting  to  learn  the  fate  of  the 
remainder  of  the  brood,  I  had  the  two  little  fellows 


244       A  Kindergarten  Experiment 

nicely  wrapped  in  cotton,  and,  with  a  supply  of  chick 
food,  stored  them  safely  in  the  pocket  of  my  great- 
coat. And  then  I  started  for  home. 

The  evening  was  chilly,  and  I  buttoned  my  coat 
up  closely,  guarding  carefully  the  new  charge  which 
I  had  assumed.  At  a  certain  corner  on  Fifth  Avenue 
there  was  a  lamp  post,  unlighted  at  the  time  I  passed. 
What  it  was  that  caused  me  to  glance  up,  I  do  not 
know ;  but  perched  upon  its  top  sat  an  owl,  with 
all  the  quiet  dignity  which  has  caused  that  bird  to 
become  the  emblem  of  wisdom.  I  spoke  to  him, 
and  waved  my  hand  aloft ;  but  he  remained  serenely 
indifferent  to  all  my  demonstrations.  Then  curiosity 
came  to  the  front.  What  in  the  world  was  the  bird 
doing  there  ?  Where  had  he  come  from  ?  How  had 
he  penetrated  to  the  heart  of  a  great  city,  and  found 
lodgment  on  such  a  curious  perch  ?  I  did  not  try 
to  answer  the  questions  then,  nor  have  I  ever  done 
so  since.  What  I  did  do  was  to  swing,  by  the  cross 
bar,  up  within  reach  of  his  owlship,  quietly  capture 
him,  and  store  him  gently  away  in  the  unoccupied 
pocket  of  my  great-coat.  -That  it  was  an  uncalled- 


A  Kindergarten  Experiment       245 

for  proceeding,  I  did  not  stop  to  think ;  that  he  might 
have  ideas  of  liberty  at  variance  with  my  summary 
action,  did  not  enter  my  head,  any  more  than  it  does 
that  of  hundreds  of  persons  who  are  brutal  through 
thoughtlessness. 

So  here  was  a  new  responsibility,  and,  as  I  began 
to  think  it  over,  a  rather  serious  one.  What  in  the 
world  was  I  to  do  with  the  owl  ?  Where  was  I 
to  put  him  ?  On  what  should  I  feed  him  ?  And, 
for  that  matter,  what  was  I  to  do  with  the  quiet  little 
chickens  that  were  still  slumbering  in  my  pocket  ? 
1  began  to  realize  the  great  truth  which  so  many 
heads  of  families  have  learned,  that  it  is  far  easier  to 
assume  an  obligation  than  to  discharge  it.  But  then, 
I  was  a  bachelor. 

One  of  the  rooms  of  the  Broadway  '  flat '  which 
I  occupied  was  an  inner  one,  and  was  used  for 
storing  guns,  fishing-rods,  and  other  implements  of 
carnage.  An  appliance  closely  associated  with  these 
weapons  was  a  *  striking  bag,'  suspended  from  the 
centre  of  the  room,  which  I  occasionally  '  punched,' 
nominally  for  exercise,  but  doubtless  more  for  train- 


246       A  Kindergarten  Experiment 

ing.  Once  an  ill-directed  blow  had  sent  the  bag 
flying  through  a  window  between  the  inner  room  and 
the  one  used  as  a  library.  Fortunately,  a  large  pic- 
ture, with  an  exceedingly  heavy  frame,  now  hung 
directly  over  the  window,  and  hence  concealed  the 
fracture,  which  was  meanwhile  awaiting  the  attention 
of  the  glazier. 

It  now  occurred  to  me  that  this  inner  room  would 
be  an  admirable  abode  for  my  owl.  In  the  first 
place,  it  was  dark ;  and  we  all  know  that  owls  c  love 
darkness  rather  than  light.'  Then  there  were  mice 
there,  and  they  naturally  would  furnish  him  with 
food.  It  seemed  a  fortunate  provision  for  getting  rid 
of  mice  without  the  aid  of  a  cat,  which  would  not 
have  been  a  congenial  companion  for  the  birds.  In 
fact,  I  thought  the  owl  question  was  very  happily 
settled.  How  little  I  foresaw  the  outcome  ! 

On  reaching  home,  I  deposited  Mr.  Owl  in  the 
inner  room,  upon  a  bracket  that  ran  out  from  the 
wall.  He  seemed  to  take  to  the  place  kindly,  and, 
so  far  as  I  could  see,  appeared  to  be  contented.  But 
one  should  never  judge  from  appearances  —  especially 
with  owls.  The  chickens  were  a  much  harder  prob- 


A  K 

lem.     " 

lackin 

posses 

. 

try  nr 
but  f 

n   to 

peep   • 

which  the  incubator  \r-  ate 

greedily.     But  tl 

4t*T^ie( 'hiinute  I  took  them  from  their  box  of  cotton  tlie\ 

began  to  peep  pitifully.' 
DRAWING  n>   J.  C,\RTI:R  Hi  ARD. 


amusing  to  watch  the: 


A  Kindergarten  Experiment       247 

lem.  They  were,  of  course,  new  to  the  world,  and 
lacking  in  experience,  such  as  the  owl  unquestionably 
possessed ;  and,  what  I  did  not  realize  before,  but 
soon  learned,  they  were  without  a  mother.  All  poul- 
try men  know  that  little  chickens  must  be  'brooded'; 
but  then,  you  see,  I  was  an  amateur.  The  minute 
I  took  them  from  their  box  of  cotton  they  began  to 
peep  pitifully.  I  fed  them  on  the  yolk  of  an  egg 
which  the  incubator  man  had  given  me,  and  they  ate 
greedily.  But  the  moment  I  offered  to  leave  them 
they  followed  me  like  little  dogs,  peeping  with  all 
the  earnestness  of  homeless  wanderers.  I  tried  to 
throw  them  off  their  guard  and  escape  from  them  ; 
but  it  was  impossible.  What  was  I  to  do  ?  Cer- 
tainly I  could  not  take  them  to  bed  with  me,  and 
the  hour  was  late.  At  last  I  put  them  in  a  large 
pasteboard  box  in  which  I  cut  holes  to  admit  air.  I 
heard  them  peeping  away,  fainter  and  fainter,  until 
they  had  apparently  gone  to  sleep  ;  and  then  I  fol- 
lowed their  example. 

In  the  morning  I  found  the  little  fellows  in  very 
good  condition,  and  with  vigorous  appetites.  It  was 
amusing  to  watch  the  fluffy  little  balls  of  down,  pick- 


248       A  Kindergarten  Experiment 

ing  away  at  their  food,  and  apparently  contented  with 
the  conditions  around  them.  But  the  moment  I 
attempted  to  go  away  they  left  their  food  and  insisted 
upon  following  me.  Here  was  a  dilemma.  I  needed 
breakfast  quite  as  badly  as  did  my  charges,  and  yet 
they  would  not  desert  me  any  more  than  Mrs. 
Micawber  would  her  worthless  spouse.  It  was,  to 
say  the  least,  perplexing.  After  a  while  I  managed 
to  escape  from  them  long  enough  to  slip  into  the 
dark  room  to  see  how  the  owl  was  flourishing.  It 
was  so  dark  I  could  not  even  see  his  eyes ;  but  upon 
lighting  the  burner  I  found  him  in  the  same  position 
I  had  left  him  in.  Apparently  he  had  not  stirred ; 
but  there  was  a  look  in  his  eyes  I  did  not  like.  I 
knew  he  had  heard  the  chickens  in  the  adjoining 
room,  and  that  they  had  been  a  sore  temptation  to 
him ;  but  still  he  had  not  moved  from  his  place. 
Surely,  I  thought,  he  could  not  be  very  bloodthirsty. 
I  returned  to  the  next  room,  and  was  received  by 
the  chickens  with  all  the  joy  of  lost  children.  I  saw 
that  the  canary  and  bullfinch  were  well  provided  with 
food  and  water,  and  then  I  departed.  I  may  as  well 
confess  that  I  drew  a  long  breath  after  I  reached  the 


A  Kindergarten  Experiment       249 

street,  for  I  had   never  before  assumed    such   heavy 
responsibilities,  especially  of  this   kind. 

I  did  not  return  home  until  afternoon.  The 
first  thing  that  greeted  me  upon  opening  the  door 
was  what  appeared  to  be  a  snow-storm.  The  en- 
tire room  seemed  filled  with  a  cloud  of  down.  It 
floated  up  to  the  ceiling;  it  covered  the  carpet.  I 
was  amazed.  What  could  it  mean  ?  Of  course  I 
looked  for  the  cause,  and,  I  must  confess,  with  a 
beating  heart  and  sad  forebodings.  There,  upon 
the  table,  lay  the  remains  of  my  canary,  headless, 
and  largely  plucked.  There  was  something  pathetic 
even  in  his  dying  attitude.  I  looked  for  the  chick- 
ens ;  but  the  floating  cloud  of  down  was  all  that  indi- 
cated that  they  had  ever  existed.  However  thought- 
less or  heartless  I  may  have  been  before,  I  broke 
down  then  and  groaned  aloud.  These  innocent  crea- 
tures had  been  sacrificed  through  my  heedlessness 
and  bad  management.  They  were  under  my  care 
and  protection ;  I  had  made  myself  responsible  for 
their  welfare  and  happiness,  and  yet  I  had  exposed 
them  to  their  natural  enemy.  Voluntarily  assuming 
the  office  of  guardian,  I  had  basely  betrayed  my 


250       A  Kindergarten  Experiment 

trust.  A  realization  of  it  all  came  to  me  with  crush- 
ing force,  and  I  was  overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of 
guilt. 

When  the  first  emotion  had  passed  away,  I 
looked  about  for  the  perpetrator  of  the  crime. 
There  he  was,  perched  upon  a  bust  of  Caesar  (I  do 
not  possess  one  of  Pallas)  as  if  he  had  fled  for 
refuge  to  that  ancient  advocate  of  slaughter.  What 
could  I  do  ?  Logically,  he  was  not  to  blame ;  he 
had  only  followed  out  his  natural  instincts,  and  I  had 
enabled  him  to  do  so.  Investigation  showed  that 
the  owl  had  gone  through  the  broken  pane  of  glass, 
pushed  aside,  by  a  strength  incredible,  the  heavy 
picture  that  hung  before  it,  and  thus  reached  the 
room  where  both  chickens  and  birds  were  domiciled. 
The  rest  appeared  to  have  been  quite  easy.  It  is 
probable  that  the  owl  reversed  the  order  common  to 
the  animal  man,  and  consumed  his  desert  first.  Cer- 
tainly chicklets  less  than  twenty-four  hours  old  should 
be  tender  enough  for  the  most  fastidious  owlet.  But 
evidently  his  appetite  had  not  been  appeased  by  the 
chickens,  and  he  felt  that  a  portion  at  least  of  the 
canary  was  necessary. 


A  Kindergarten  Experiment       251 

How  the  little  bullfinch  escaped,  I  could  not  im- 
agine. I  found  him  somewhat  perturbed,  and  no 
wonder.  He  had  witnessed  a  scene  of  carnage  in 
which,  fortunately,  he  was  only  a  spectator.  I  felt 
like  congratulating  him,  but  he  was  evidently  in  no 
frame  of  mind  for  conventionalities.  We  were  pretty 
good  friends,  however,  and  I  fancy  I  was  able  to 
reassure  him  a  little.  How  much  they  love  sym- 
pathy—  all  these  small  inarticulate  friends  of  ours, 
—  and  how  little  we  realize  it  or  bestow  it !  Poor 
little  fellow  !  he  came  up  to  the  bars  of  the  cage 
and  put  his  tiny  head  against  the  hand  I  extended. 
He  rubbed  his  velvet  down  against  my  roughened 
cuticle.  He  even  chirped  a  little,  in  a  half-frightened 
way,  as  if  trying  to  tell  me  of  the  dreadful  sight  he 
had  witnessed.  I  talked  to  him  gently,  and  put  a 
fresh  piece  of  apple  between  the  bars  ;  but  he  was 
in  no  mood  for  dining. 

And  so  the  problem  of  my  responsibilities  had 
narrowed.  I  could  now  concentrate  my  attentions 
upon  two  instead  of  five  dependent  creatures ;  but 
I  was  not  happy  over  the  prospect.  It  is  true  I 
might  have  solved  the  question  by  opening  the  win- 


252       A  Kindergarten  Experiment 

dows  and  giving  both  birds  their  freedom.  I  thought 
of  that,  but  what  would  have  been  the  result  ?  As- 
suming that  the  bullfinch  escaped  the  owl  (which  was 
doubtful),  how  was  he  to  exist  ?  He  had  been 
reared  as  a  dependent,  and  could  not  care  for  him- 
self. To  liberate  him  would  have  been  to  expose 
him  to  inclement  elements,  to  hunger,  and  to  all  the 
enemies  that  swarm  in  air  and  on  the  earth  to  prey 
upon  the  unprotected.  No,  1  could  not  do  that.  I 
continued,  therefore,  to  carry  out  the  responsibility 
I  had  voluntarily  assumed.  It  was  a  difficult  task. 
The  little  bird  pined  somewhat.  I  fancied  his  ner- 
vous system  had  received  a  shock  from  which  it 
never  fully  recovered.  I  coaxed  him  with  all  the 
bird  delicacies  of  which  I  had  ever  heard,  and  he 
seemed  very  grateful, —  indeed,  he  appeared  to  have 
become  especially  attached  to  me  since  the  death  of 
the  canary ;  but  yet  he  pined.  Poor  little  fellow! 
It  was  indeed  pitiful. 

But  to  return  to  the  owl.  He,  too,  failed  to 
thrive.  I  never  quite  understood  the  cause,  but  I 
could  see  he  grew  weaker  and  weaker.  I  fed  him 
carefully,  and  think  he  did  not  starve  himself;  but 


A  Kindergarten  Experiment       253 

he  drooped.  One  day,  as  I  came  in,  he  tried  to 
fly  from  his  perch  and  fell  all  in  a  heap  upon  the 
floor.  I  picked  him  up,  but  he  could  not  open  his 
eyes,  and,  with  a  few  spasms,  and  an  occasional  gasp, 
he  passed  away.  While  it  was  a  relief  to  me,  I 
could  not  help  feeling  sorry  for  the  poor  fellow. 
At  the  same  time  I  began  to  question  myself  as  to 
whether  I  was  morally  responsible  not  only  for  the 
miserable  life  he  had  led,  but  also  for  his  death.  I 
had  made  him  a  captive,  and  in  captivity  he  perished. 

At  last  I  was  reduced  to  one  feathered  pet,  the 
bright  little  bullfinch  that  had  survived  all  his  com- 
panions. He  puzzled  me  more  and  more.  Appar- 
ently he  was  bright  enough,  and  usually  cheerful,  but 
there  was  an  air  of  sadness  about  him  that  I  knew 
was  foreign  to  his  nature.  I  could  see  he  was 
pining.  I  was  ready  to  do  anything  in  my  power 
for  him,  but  there  really  seemed  to  be  nothing  for 
me  to  do  —  at  least  I  then  thought  so. 

One  night  I  came  in  from  the  club,  turned  on 
the  lights,  and  looked  into  his  cage.  I  did  not  see 
him  on  his  accustomed  perch,  and  upon  looking  the 
second  time  found  him  lying  on  the  floor  of  his 


254       A  Kindergarten  Experiment 

home.  I  spoke,  and  he  instantly  responded,  but  oh, 
with  such  a  feeble  voice.  I  opened  the  door  of  his 
cage,  took  him  in  my  hand,  and  tenderly  caressed 
the  poor  little  sufferer.  He  tried  to  raise  his  head, 
but  was  too  weak,  and  it  fell  back  helplessly.  He 
seemed  to  be  trying  to  tell  me  his  trouble ;  but  in 
vain.  I  knew  too  well  he  must  be  in  agony,  and 
that  relief  was  probably  near.  Peep,  peep,  came  in 
feeble  tones,  while  every  few  moments  a  gentle  flutter 
of  the  wings  showed  how  sensitive  was  the  sweet 
nature  enshrined  within  that  little  frame.  I  could 
feel  a  tremor,  like  that  of  a  small  electric  battery,  as 
I  held  him  in  my  hand,  and  knew  the  vibrations 
were  growing  less  and  less  each  moment.  I  placed 
him  beside  my  cheek,  where  he  could  feel  the 
warmth  of  my  body,  and  hear  my  voice  more  dis- 
tinctly ;  and  there  he  lay,  throbbing  and  breathing 
less  and  less,  but  apparently  conscious,  and  grateful 
for  my  attentions.  At  all  events  he  did  not  struggle. 
Reader,  have  you  ever  held  the  head  and  felt 
the  pulse  of  one  whom  you  loved,  and  knew  that 
the  life  current  was  each  moment  becoming  slower 
and  feebler  ? 


A  Kindergarten  Experiment       255 

Our  attachments  are,  and  should  be,  more  toward 
our  flesh  and  blood  than  to  the  dumb  companions 
about  us ;  but  the  life  is  the  same,  and  the  sensation 
the  same  when  we  feel  it  is  about  to  depart. 

And  so  I  lost  the  last  of  my  feathered  pets  —  lost 
them  largely  because  I  did  not  understand  them, 
could  not  comprehend  their  delicate  and  sensitive 
natures,  and  hence  did  not  properly  care  for  them. 
I  deserve  the  severest  blame,  the  most  unqualified 
censure.  And  yet,  was  I  so  very  much  worse  in 
this  respect  that  many  others  who  are  to-day  keep- 
ing pets  for  their  own  selfish  pleasure  and  subjecting 
them  literally  to  a  lingering  death  ?  Do  we  always 
stop  to  consider,  in  assuming  an  obligation,  how  im- 
portant it  may  be  and  what  serious  consequences  it 
may  involve  ?  And  do  we  always  realize  that,  hav- 
ing once  assumed  such  an  obligation,  its  moral  re- 
sponsibility can  never  be  evaded  ?  How  many  men, 
presumably  honorable,  have  sold  their  speeders,  hunt- 
ers, or  carriage  horses,  after  they  have  outlived  their 
highest  usefulness,  regardless  of  the  depths  of  humil- 
iation and  suffering  to  which  the  last  days  of  the 
faithful  creatures  may  be  subjected  !  The  enslave- 


256       A  Kindergarten  Experiment 

ment  of  an  animal  places  a  responsibility  upon  the 
master  which  no  fine  reasoning  can  ever  evade.  As 
one  who  has  learned  these  truths  by  a  bitter  experi- 
ence that  involved  several  innocent  lives,  I  appeal 
to  the  readers  of  these  pages  to  tenderly  care  for 
the  creatures  whose  welfare  they  have  assumed  and 
the  responsibility  for  which  they  cannot  escape. 


